


Wild

by Iszabeau_N



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Against My Better Judgement, Altmer Dovahkiin, Anal Sex, Assault, Attempted Murder, Biting, Blood and Gore, Bondage and Discipline, Brainwashing, Brutal Murder, Brutality, Cannibalism, Concealing Evidence, Divergence at Helgen, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feeling For The First Time, Feral Behavior, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Graphic Description of Past Rape, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Murder, Opium, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parents that care, Pregnancy, Recreational Drug Use, Revenge Denied, Rough Sex, S&M, Sadism, Savior's Hide, Slavery, Slight Divergence At Helgen, Slight divergence regarding College of Winterhold questline, Stockholm Syndrome, Superiority, Tags May Change, Treason, Unconditional Love, Underage Sex, Werewolf Transformation, Werewolves, Witnessed Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 43
Words: 112,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iszabeau_N/pseuds/Iszabeau_N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood, dirt, and the remnants of his climax, ran down his body.  Laying down in the stream, letting the cold water run over him, knowing he was making a show of it.  He would've never done any of this in front of a regular woman.</p><p>But there was nothing regular about her.</p><p> He finally felt like he'd met the woman that he could be his true self with.  The woman he could be one with, no matter what form he chose to be in. She would understand him and accept him either way.</p><p>There was a reason he'd found out about this, found out about her... met her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watching

**Author's Note:**

> 04/01/18 - just posted today. Working on the next for this and another for Mutt. Will try to have them ready in a few more days.
> 
> I know that it seems it's taken forever to work on these, but I literally took a year off from writing due to personal reasons. Now that my life is finally in order I am back to it, but with a little less time. I thank everyone that has stuck by this for so long. I appreciate it and promise to continue. 
> 
> My goal is usually to write and post a chapter on something each week. Sometimes I can make that happen, and sometimes I can't.  
> As I've said in my others, I've done a ton of editing, and will continue to do more as I learn. English was not my primary but I'm getting better, so please try to bear with me. I appreciate your patience and for reading.
> 
> ***Tags*** Please read the tags. This story involves an underage character around the lines of 15. It also deals with some pretty harsh stuff. If that or any of the subject matter that is tagged for disturbs, you may not want to read**
> 
> This starts when the twins are younger, around 18 and have just recently been turned. It then goes to present Skyrim time. I'm going to say that in present time they are around 24 years old. That may not be the case in the game, but it is in this story. Also Hrongar and some select others are aware of the beast blood and keep it secret & Aela hasn't joined yet, but does after a bit. 
> 
> It starts prior to the Dovahkiin's appearance. He will be quite heavily involved later on, but the story will mainly revolve around my main character, her plight, and her relationship with you know who. Timing of events will vary some from the game, but I will try to keep true to lore as much as possible. My Dovahkiin is an Altmer. That doesn't mean it's pro-Imperial. I have two fics that lean toward Stormcloak, this just happens to be one of them.
> 
> This will not revolve around the civil war, but there will be a decent amount of involvement from both sides and the Thalmor once the story gets further in. It will eventually lean toward the Stormcloak side, but I think the readers will gather that in time. I don't want to give a ton away. There will be a lot more dealings with Thalmor, the Altmer and Bosmer people than in the game. There will also be some divergence, especially in the events at Darkwater Crossing, in Helgen and with the Greybeards. Also a little in the Winterhold stuff and with the Companions. Things will also go back and forth between the Isles and Skyrim.
> 
> Of course, anyone who dies in the game will die in this story, sadly.
> 
> **I don't own anything, but my OC's.**
> 
> On a personal note: For anyone that is huge into Skyrim, my partner and I have recently gotten into some classical music and discovered Brunuhville. I urge everyone that likes the background Skyrim music to listen to this. Wolfborn, Dance with Dragons and Rise of the Fallen. Just a few from them that remind me of the Companions and Skyrim all together. Fits perfectly! Like the music was written for the game.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning to heft the bag onto the nearest horse, Hrongar froze.
> 
> Looking down at the pile of bodies he'd set on fire, one of the Elven bandits had been pulled out.
> 
> Not all of the way, just partially. Just the top part of him. The only thing left in the fire that had burned, was his legs from the knees down.
> 
> Stooping to get a better look at the Elf, flesh was missing... he'd been eaten at. His heart sped up, quickly looking around then back down to the body!

********

Pulling his broadsword out of the Orc, he wiped the blade clean on the bandit's pant leg. Looking around the camp, he counted six in all that he would have to pile up and burn. He always burned them, warning to others and it kept the beasts away. 'It was an invite to trouble if you left em' bloody just layin around.'

Suddenly he felt the urge to freeze, as a shiver climbed it's way up his spine. Nothing but silence. There it was again... that feeling that he was being watched.

He'd been getting that feeling a lot lately when he was out. Not just clearing out bandit camps, but hunting as well. He'd never actually heard anything or saw anything, it was always just a feeling.

He'd kept his ears open around other hunters to see if anyone else was sensing the same, but hadn't heard anything. By the Gods, he wasn't going to ask anyone either, didn't want anyone thinking he'd gone soft or daft!

Nonsense! he was getting spooked over nothing. The hour was getting late, he would finish up out here and then go down into the mine to count out the spoils while he ate. There would be enough food and drink down there for a week, if he felt like getting away. He'd done that before as well. The mine was well fortified, actually cozy. If someone really wanted to mine for a profession they'd have it made here. Problem was, idiot poachers weren't too good at what they did. Always seemed to end up meeting the business end of his sword. Tomorrow he would pull the spikes out of the pit and board it back up.

His brother had enough on his mind, running a city without having to worry about poachers and bandits. As it was, he was out here at least every three or four months or so, clearing out the lot of them! Oh well... helped him blow off some steam and helped fill his pockets.

Dragging the bodies into a pile in the center of the camp, he dropped the torch lighting them ablaze. Standing back, he let his eyes scan over the wooden stake walls. The sun was red on the horizon, beautiful sunset. Having already searched above ground, he secured the gates and headed down into the mine.

*******

The sun was just getting into the sky. Taking the bar off the mine doors, he propped one open so he could pull the heavy bag of goods outside. He could load it onto one of the horses the bandits had. Good animals too, he'd really made out on this trip. He planned to keep the two painted ones, knowing Balgruuf would want one of them. The other ones could be sold for a good price. 

Turning to heft the bag onto the nearest horse, Hrongar froze.

Looking down at the pile of bodies he'd set on fire, one of the Elven bandits had been pulled out.

Not all of the way, just partially. Just the top part of him. The only thing left in the fire that had burned, was his legs from the knees down.

Stooping to get a better look at the Elf, flesh was missing... he'd been eaten at. His heart sped up, quickly looking around, then back down to the body!

The elf's right arm, from the elbow to the wrist, had been eaten down to the bone. And the hand was missing. Gone. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, goose flesh making its way up his arms! He started circling the fire, very slowly he looked everywhere, not a single track. No prints, no scrapes in the dirt, nothing! Looking around at the gates, they were still locked from the inside, just as he'd left them.

The only evidence on the ground, were little drops of blood surrounding the partially devoured limb. 

Impossible!!

******

He stared at the Elf, taking in his condition. There were smears of mud on his chest, head and neck. Also blood, a lot of blood, but little to no blood on the ground. It didn't make any sense. How could there be no prints or tracks, not even a drag mark? 

He walked the perimeter of the gated walls, from the burn pile to all points out. Nothing. Looking up at the wooden stakes, his eyes scanned over the wooden pole shed in center of camp, near the fire. He stopped, moving around it, getting a closer look. 

There were smears of dirt along the top of it. His curiosity peaked! He had to get a closer look. Pulling one of the barrels up, then a crate, he stepped onto the crate, then up onto the barrel from there. Praying to Talos that his heavy ass didn't bust through it, he grabbed the edge of the roof and hoisted himself up far enough to see.

There were smears of grime, mud and soot. And more blood. But that's where it ended! There was no blood anywhere else that he'd seen.

'How could something get onto the shed roof... onto the body, then back onto that roof?'

Dropping back onto the ground, he looked at the top of the barrel he was just on. Smears... blood and mud.

He'd already been over the walkways that bordered the fencing, nothing... 

Deciding to take a closer look, he moved along the walkway opposite the shed, focusing on the very tops of the stakes and poles. On the tops of a few stakes were drops of blood and mud smear. The pieces starting to come together in his mind, he just needed to check one more thing.

Walking back over to the burn pile, he picked up the elf carefully and moved him to the top of the pile, taking pains not to step under where the body had been. Directly under him, were the scuffed marks of what appeared to be where the ball and toes, of where two very small feet, had touched the ground.

Whatever it was, it wasn't an animal.

This time he watched, as the body burned.

*******

Selling four of the horses, he boarded the other two. He would have to bring his brother down to see them and let him have his choice. Hefting the sack over his shoulder, he stopped at War Maidens first, selling what he could there. She only had so much coin to spare, so he made his way to the Huntsman.

Walking in, Elrindir smiled at him, "Hrongar, have a drink with me... unload that and we'll give it a look over when we're done!"

The Bosmer locked the doors for midday meal, he and Hrongar walked upstairs. Finally sitting, feet up. He could smell the meat on the spit, and normally it would've made his mouth water, but his stomach still wasn't right. The brothers were both excellent cooks, and huntsmen for that matter. They hunted and drank regularly together.

Elrindir handed a bottle to Hrongar, and then poured himself some wine. Flopping down in the seat, the Bosmer looking him over. "You're almost as grey as Irileth. What in Au-riel's name happened to you??"

Swallowing his mead, he looked at the elf. "If I tell you, it's between you and I! Got it!" Elrindir just nodded, something was very wrong. Hrongar was one of the strongest men he'd ever met, he had never seen him shaken like this.

Then he told him what he found...

"What bothered me the most, after piecing it all together. It looked like whatever it was, hopped from the top of the wooden stakes, over to the shed roof, then dropping onto the ground. Right in front of a blazing fire, mind you! Pulled the body out of the fire, then got on top of the body to eat the arm!" He looked at the Bosmer, he was dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop.

"I don't know how it got the hand off, there was bite marks all over the bones too, like it had chewed on them. So anyway, it stands or crouches on the body, eating the arm. Watching the fire?? A relaxing meal?? For Talos' sake, I don't know!! Then it leaps from the body with the hand, back up to the barrel, up on top of the shed roof. Where it then, had to have eaten the hand? I don't know. Elrindir... there was blood all over that roof, and smeared mud. Not a single finger print or hand print. I had to move a barrel, and a crate to see good on that roof! I'm a good six foot four..." 

"Whatever it was, took pains not to leave any marks or prints. The only prints it left were under the elf's body where it had laid him to eat!! Elrindir, those prints looked like a small person's! Just the ball and toes, not even a whole print."

His massive hand ran over his shaved head in frustration. "If I hadn't thought to move the elf back onto the pile, I would've never seen them."

Hrongar was looking worse by the second, "Then when it's done eating, it leaps back up onto the stakes and is gone. I looked all over around those gates, there wasn't a single print! And it evidently took the hand or what was left of the hand with it. I couldn't find it anywhere." 

By now Hrongar's hands are massaging his forehead, his mead is gone. Elrindir handed him another bottle, getting up. "Stay here." 

Hrongar looked up at him, "Where you goin?" 

Elrindir paused, turning slightly. "I'm getting my brother... I want you to tell him." Walking out the back door.

Opening the bottle, he took a drink... looking around, spotting three more bottles. Grabbing them up, adding them to the one on the table. "I'm damned well gettin drunk!" 


	2. Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted this to last, he loved it. When he was in his human form there was so much pressure... pressure to be like his brother, pressure to be better, smarter. Vilkas struggled in his beast form, still trying to be too human to enjoy it.
> 
> Like _this_ Farkas didn't have to be like anyone, he could just be. He could just let himself go and be one with everything around him.
> 
> This was where _he_ was smarter... like this.

*******

Farkas left his clothes lying in a heap on the floor of the Underforge, Vilkas looked at him frowning.

"What?"

Vilkas just shook his head, folding his clothes and laying them in a neat pile. Farkas rolled his eyes. As long as he minded the lessons Skjor had taught them, what else mattered? 'Always leave your clothing or armor, somewhere where you could get to it after coming back to human form!'

And there they were, right there on the ground. He knew where they were. What else mattered?

He was ready. He could feel his skin crawling, rippling... his body temperature went up until he felt like he was on fire. Within seconds he was covered in sweat, until it ran down his body in rivulets. All he could hear was his heart beating, speeding up... his blood rushing furiously through his veins. His breath coming out in pants... 

Tasting the blood that seeped out around his teeth, as they elongated. He crouched down as the change took him. Arms down... claws sharp as steel pushing his nails out. Searing pain in his limbs and back, as the muscles and ligaments stretched with a ripping sound. Fur, pushed out of his skin... his head shook, as the bones in his face shifted.

His howl echoing off the stone walls around them...

Vilkas watched his brother transform, looking up at his yellow eyes... he was ready. They would hunt together tonight.

On all fours they ran, the full moon shining down, lighting up the hillside around them. Farkas was in the lead. Vilkas almost envied the way his brother took to the blood, he just got lost in it, like it was almost a relief.

He couldn't relax enough to be like that, Farkas said 'He thought too much! How could he embrace the beast blood if he was still trying to be a person when he changed?' Vilkas just felt like he had to look out for them both. One of them had to be smart.

Farkas slowed down to a stop, they were approaching the Halted Stream Camp. Hrongar had just come back from there yesterday, clearing out some bandits. His brother's nose was in the air, mouth slightly open. Allowing the air he sucked in to move over his tongue, his eyes closed to slits and his ears tilted back... tasting it. Vilkas lifted his snout smelling the air, the hair along the ridge on his back lifted, his tail went straight.

There was the smell of burnt hair and flesh, but also something else. It was strange... not human, but not animal. Different. He didn't like it!

Nuzzling Farkas' shoulder with his head, he motioned in the other direction. Farkas just looked at him, tongue still tasting the strange scent, once again running slowly toward the camp. Not happy about it, but following anyway... they weren't splitting up!

Hrongar had bolted the gates and would be pissed off at them if they broke through, so jumping over was the best option. They ran to the rear of the camp and jumped down from the hillside in front of the mine doors.

Both of them stood still for a moment on all fours... watching and listening.

In the center of the camp was a pile of burnt bodies, this was Hrongar's way, nothing new. Farkas moved toward it, nose to the ground. Dirt and pebbles spraying out from around his snout at every exhale of breath. Vilkas stood at attention, his yellow eyes shifting about, ready for anything. 

Farkas lifted his head to Vilkas, huffing at him. He stopped in front of the bodies. Vilkas came up beside him, looking down he could see the prints in the dirt. Farkas' nose pushed into them, sniffing deeply. Turning, he now stood upright, looking toward the top of the shed, sniffing. 

Vilkas could smell it as well... there was blood. The scent making his mouth water, but worrying him all the same. Running to the opposite walkway, Farkas jumped to the roof. Nose down, smelling and licking the mess on the wood. He rubbed his muzzle into it, then rolled in it. Standing upright on the roof, he looked out toward the forest. His fur bristling, as his brother howled at whatever was out there.

Like a shot, Farkas was moving, frantically smelling all the spots where the strange smell had touched! He followed, whining at his brother! Shaking his head, his fur flying all around him, he wanted to leave. Both only slowing to smell, making sure they were still following the same scent.

It led into the forest. Vilkas dodging ahead of him, stopped directly in his path, whining! He wanted Farkas to forget about it and come with him! He ran in the other direction. They needed to find something to hunt, some prey. Farkas stood up on his hind feet. Looking into the woods, his snout upwards, he breathed in the scent. 

After long minutes, he finally turned... his brother had stopped, waiting for him. Running after Vilkas, he couldn't help but feeling that whatever it was, it was watching them...

*******

Running into the river on the other side of Dragon's Reach, Farkas rolled in the water. They had fed, his stomach was full. All he wanted to do now was wash the stickiness out of his fur, it felt so good. Walking to the shallows, he lay on his stomach, stretching his long legs out behind him, and spreading his toes.

He wanted this to last, he loved it. When he was in his human form there was so much pressure... pressure to be like his brother, pressure to be better, smarter. 

Vilkas struggled in his beast form, still trying to be too human to enjoy it. Like _this_ Farkas didn't have to be like anyone, he could just be. He could just let himself go and be one with everything around him.

This was where _he_ was smarter... like this.

*******


	3. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Large, almond shaped, ocher colored eyes stared at him. It was hunkered down, barely visible as it seemed to be hugging the ground, the arm in it's mouth. Teeth bared around it's meal, he could hear a faint low growl, emitting from it's throat.
> 
> Very slowly, he raised his hands and softly spoke to it. "It's okay... it's okay, you're safe."

********

"Farkas! Just leave it! We don't need to know!" Vilkas said under his breath, gritting his teeth in frustration. Getting up, he stormed into the mead hall, leaving his brother in the courtyard. Farkas walked out to the overlook, leaning into the stone, his chin resting on his folded arms.

He looked out at the forest, where the scent had led them last night. He wanted to know what it was, it was all he could think about! Vilkas irritated him, he wasn't any fun anymore. He worried over everything! Where was his sense of adventure? He decided he would search again the next time he hunted with Skjor.

********

"You need to bait it." Anoriath took a sip of his tea, a serious look on his face.

Hrongar looked down at the table, fingering his beard. "I don't know how comfortable I am with that." 

He was in the Huntsman, having breakfast and drinks before they had to open shop. Elrindir and his brother glanced at each other briefly, then looked back to him. 

"Hrongar, whatever it is, has probably been watching you for awhile. If you were in any danger, it would have likely done something before now." 

"Now that you know what it likes, use that! The next time you have to kill, take a portion. Make your camp and set it out."

Hrongar just looked back and forth between them, like they were insane. "So... what you're saying is, I should cut an arm off a dead bandit and set it out, while I make camp for the night. And then wait for a cannibal to come and take it?" 

Anoriath chuckled, "Preferably a dead bandit, yes... that's exactly what you should do." 

"It's not funny!" he glowered at the Bosmer.

Elrindir leaned back in his chair, cup in hand. "Once it knows that you are willing to share with it, or feed it. It will eventually feel comfortable enough to let itself be seen."

Just thinking about it, made the hair at his nape stand on end!

He had wanted them to go to the bandit camp to look at the tracks for themselves. But as both of them were essential to their business, they couldn't. Once in a great while, when business was really slow he could get them both out hunting at the same time. But it was usually himself and just one of them.

Trying to wrap his head around it, he sipped his mead. "I know the both of you are somewhat older than me, do either of you have any ideas on what I might be dealing with here?"

Both brothers were silent for a moment, then looking up at him. "We could guess Hrongar, but that's all it would be... a guess." Anoriath chimed in now, "Also, even if you want to, don't take anyone with you. It may get spooked, ruining your chance."

"Great" blowing out a breath, he finished his mead and stood, stretching. "Well, I'd better get up to see the Steward, he's got a job that needs done. I'll see you at Midday." 

Finishing with all the preparations required to open for the day, Anoriath turned to his brother on his way out. "You don't think that's what it is, do you?" 

Elrindir shook his head, "Not here... not in Skyrim. Besides, it doesn't fit. Why would they eat someone else's kill. They would only eat their own, it has to be something else."

Anoriath paused, "Maybe you're right."

*******

After meeting with them for midday meal, he was all set to go. He set out for a small cave, that was literally under the hillside that Dragons Reach sat upon. Evidently some guards had seen a group of bandits camped out in there. This was another spot that he was constantly dealing with, this and the abandoned Nord ruin just past it. He'd often wished that they had enough men to keep the ruin in use, but it just wasn't practical.

The brothers wished him luck as he set off, they would be waiting to see him tomorrow. Eager for news. 

It was so close the the city, the bandits that held up here had to be bold as hell. It was just a short bit away from the guard tower too. That concerned him, he hoped it gave enough privacy that this would work.

There were only three of them, two Nords and one elf, a magic user. Easy work. 

It looked like they'd killed a merchant and had taken his cart. The merchant's body lay on the ground next to the wheels. His horse was still spooked, shifting around. Hrongar rubbed his neck and head, calming him down.

That got him thinking. At the mine, the horses had been completely calm. Like nothing had happened. The mine doors had slots, he should've heard them going nuts outside, with whatever had eaten on the elf in the camp! Now he was even more confused. He continued to think about it while he gathered everything up and loaded it all into the cart.

They'd had a lot of supplies stored away in barrels and crates. He'd take everything back with him, the supplies could be used up at Dragon's Reach. It'd save them the coin of having to buy more supplies for awhile. Dumping the skooma he'd found into the fire. That's all Whiterun needed! Skooma-heads to deal with! He'd seen enough of that shit in Riften, to last him a lifetime! 

There was stew simmering over the fire in a kettle, and right now he couldn't even think of eating with what he had to do. He only had about an hour before the sun would set, moving the three bodies away from the camp a bit so he wouldn't have to breathe in the stench while they burned.

The whole time, his mind swam over it, thinking he was completely crazy for doing this! He needed to get a grip! It was just bait, that's all it was. These bandits had killed innocents, they'd had to die anyway. And _he_ needed to know what was going on, he _had_ to know what it was. He added the merchants body to the pile as well.

Choosing the elf, simply because that's what it had chosen to eat before. He couldn't help but think that perhaps that's what it preferred. But every time he thought about the possibility of that, the more disturbed he got. Laying the dead bandit's arm out onto a piece of wood they'd been using to split logs with, he raised up his broadsword and swung down hard. Severing the limb off at the elbow.

He lit the pile and walked back to camp, trailing blood from the limb, hoping that it would draw whatever it was in. He set the severed arm on the ground, just opposite from him across the campfire. It would be concealed just enough in darkness, where hopefully it would feel comfortable getting close enough to take it. 

After all, he didn't want to catch it, he just wanted to see it.

The sun was setting, he settled in on the bench that sat to the side of the fire, sipping on his mead. He'd removed the kettle of stew and set it on the table to cool. He didn't want anything in his way, should it decide to get close enough to take the bait.

Leaning back, he tried to relax. It was going to be a long night...

*******

His own snoring woke him. 

'Shit!' It was black as pitch out, he stayed completely still. He couldn't hear anything other than the normal night sounds, crickets, frogs and the snapping of the fire. It had died down some, casting a nice orange-red glow into the small cave where he sat. Trying to move only his eyes, he looked around the fire. Sure that he was alone, he straightened up on the bench... 

As soon as he moved, his eyes caught a glimpse of it from across the fire. He saw it!!

They both froze!

It was so dark, he could only see a little of it from the campfires glow. His eyes huge as he watched it, as still as he could be... holding his breath! 

Large, almond shaped, ocher colored eyes stared at him. It was hunkered down. Barely visible, as it seemed to be hugging the ground, the arm in it's mouth. Teeth bared around it's meal, he could hear a faint low growl emitting from it's throat. Very slowly, he raised his hands and softly spoke to it. "It's okay... it's okay, you're safe." 

After a few minutes, it raised it's head a tiny bit, looking at him. Almost as if it was taking in what he'd said, it lowered back down. Keeping it's eyes on him, it began to eat... softly growling around each bite. 

Knowing he should have felt sick at the fact that it was eating part of a person, he was too captivated by it. It's face was small, a tiny little nose, high cheek bones. He could see a bit of color around the eyes and cheeks, maybe some kind of paint?

The glow from the fire distorting everything, it was surrounded in shadow. He could make out the points of ears sticking up through long dark hair, he couldn't tell what sex it was. He could only see parts of it's arms and shoulders, the only clothing he could make out, were what looked like skins and furs.

It appeared to be a little Bosmer. 

Quietly, it ate now. No longer growling, it's eyes never leaving him... he decided to get bolder. Very slowly, he adjusted in his seat, bringing the mead to his lips. Only glancing at it from the corner of his eyes, as soon as he moved, it froze. It watched his every move. He tried to act as if it being there, was completely normal. He removed the cover from the kettle and slowly ladled some of the stew into a bowl.

He picked up the bowl and turned back to the fire. Their eyes on each other... he lifted the spoon to his mouth and took a bite. They watched each other. Trying to be as calm as possible, he continued to eat. Evidently realizing that he meant it no harm, keeping it's eyes on him, the little Bosmer went back to eating as well.

By the time they had finished their meals, his backside was falling asleep from sitting too long. He decided to try and stand... just to see what would happen. Keeping his eyes on his guest, he slowly stood. So quickly that his eyes couldn't even register, it jumped back, hugging the ground!

It was completely in shadow now, the only thing remotely visible was a glow reflecting in it's eyes from the fire. He turned, stretching... he wanted it to get used to him enough so that he could get closer to it.

He walked slowly to his bed roll and laid it before the fire. Laying down, he looked to where he could see the little one's eyes. This also explained why the horses were calm. The merchants horse was closer to the Bosmer than he was and wasn't spooked at all. Bosmers had an uncanny way of communicating with, and calming animals. Knowing what it was now, he was at peace. Now, he would work at further gaining it's trust.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	4. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Bosmer... Hrongar, I'm telling you, she will be using every part that she can use. And she would be a vicious adversary!"
> 
> Anoriath spoke up now, "She is more than likely using handmade weapons, a bow, knives. Probably made from bone. What we're dealing with, is something that is one with their surroundings and every living thing in it. Except us..."

*******

He woke with a start, propping himself up on his elbows, he looked around. It was early, the sun was still just coming up. 

The fire had gone out in the night and was barely smoking now. The Bosmer was gone, as he knew it would be. Sitting up on his knees, he was able to get a better look. It's tracks were everywhere, leading from the fire right up to his bedroll. 

Little hand prints and just the ball and toes of the feet. It had gotten right up to him. 

His face broke into a huge grin! Getting up, he walked around the fire, where it had hunkered while eating. There was blood of course, but also he could see the marks in the dirt from where it's body had laid. The severed limb was gone. Everywhere he looked, there were tracks. Evidently it felt more at ease with him now, if it was willing to leave prints. That gave him hope.

It had evidently inspected everything else while he'd slept too. He had to know more about it, he would hunt and make camp again soon. 

He was excited, almost giddy! He couldn't wait to get to town, he had to get to the Huntsman. Leaving the cart with the stable hand, he would deal with that later. He went to the back door, knowing that they weren't open yet. Anoriath opened, letting him in. His eyes huge, a grin graced his pointed face, "So.. you're still in one piece, that's good!" Hrongar just rolled his eyes and walked upstairs to their usual spot.

They gathered around him, handing him a drink.

Smiling big, showing his teeth, "You're not going to believe this... it's a little Bosmer."

Simultaneously, both brother's hands flew up to their mouths, they all hunched around the table! Questions started flying at him! 

"Wait, wait, wait!" Let me tell you what happened. Then I have some questions of my own!"

Going over every detail with them, "I couldn't tell what sex it was, just that it had long hair and was Bosmer. It was little, I can't guess size from a foot print, because I only see prints of the ball and toes. The hand prints are smudged and most aren't whole but it has small hands." 

Elrindir spoke up, "Size in a Bosmer's case would be small, you can't even compare to another race. I want to have a look at those prints!" 

Anoriath nodded, "Me too! We'll just open late."

********

They rode in order to get there faster. Once in camp, his Bosmer friends were in awe! They knelt, looking at every print, especially where it had laid to eat. Anoriath kneeling down near the fire's remnants, "Look!" in the dirt and blood, strands of long, deep chestnut colored hair. Giving them to Hrongar, he tucked them into a pocket. Mounting their horses, they rode back. 

They wanted to talk it over in comfort, and that meant mead and a crackling fire.

"I'm betting it's a female. The size and shape of the hands and the size of the feet, what we could see that is. You can't really tell by length of hair, a lot of males keep long hair. Especially given that it's wild." 

Anoriath agreed, "I'm also inclined to think that the Meat Mandate, is not being taken into consideration here, being that she or he is eating the kill of another..." 

Hrongar looked confused. "Now you've lost me. You've told me about that before. I thought that was the only ones, that did this..."

"This is different Hrongar. Different from a Bosmer just keeping with the pact, cannibalism is rare, even in Valenwood now. This is a wild Bosmer, feral. From the size of the hands, I'd say young adult, maybe adolescent? If that's the case, she was probably orphaned at a young age and became feral, just surviving." 

Shocked, he sat back in his seat. He just couldn't believe that.

Anoriath looked up at him, "Bosmers have a connection with nature, like no other. If she was really small, it's a very real possibility."

"Okay, what about the color on her face? someone would've shown her that, and more importantly... where would she live in winter?" Already, he was feeling protective of it... her... it.

"Hrongar, many of our children are ritually marked, or tattooed. At a very young age, toddlers. They are done with great skill and are a symbol of each Bosmer's family and name. Just like each one's name has a meaning, it tells a story. They are done in such a fashion so that as the child grows, the marks accentuate the bone structure. It also serves as camouflage, an aid in hunting and fighting. I'm thinking she was tattooed very young. Probably born in Valenwood and then brought here. And I only say this, because I've never heard of it being done outside of our homeland."

"Okay, what about winter... how has she made it through the winters?" 

"Well... when we were young, many of our people had gone higher up in the trees, to escape capture during battles and Thalmor raids. Through fasting and prayer, the green would grow to fit our needs. Because of our beliefs we wouldn't use parts of the trees or wood. Of course that's changed since coming here, but many of our settlements were literally grown from the green around us. That was in Valenwood though, not here. This is a different land and if she was real young, who knows what she's doing."

Elrindir drained his bottle, setting it aside, he brought his hand up to finger his goatee in thought. "She is more than likely living in the trees. Here she would probably live in the pines as they do not lose their leaves and would provide more cover from wind. I can't imagine that she would sleep on the ground or in a cave. She'd want to be up high."

"I can also tell you, she's not eating all that meat at once. She's probably keeping most of it for later. There's no way that she would weigh herself down with a heavy meal." 

"Well, so... she's drying it or... but, if that's the case. Why didn't I see blood trail all over the camp, at the mine and last night. It would've soaked through a pouch and leaked." He looked between them now, not sure if he wanted to know more, but still needing to.

Anoriath grabbing another round for them, "Our grandmother would take an animal's or a kill's stomach, and store food in it to carry in emergency... strong and leak proof. Nothing would get through it. One for food and one for water. She would dry meat and fish and store it in them." 

Hrongar's eyes about bugged out! "A stomach! really?" 

Then he thought about what he'd said. "What do you mean... a kill?" 

Elrindir's eyebrows raised, "A kill, an enemy."

"This Bosmer... Hrongar, I'm telling you, she will be using every part that she can use. And she would be a vicious adversary!"

Anoriath spoke up now, "She is more than likely using handmade weapons, a bow, knives. Probably made from bone. What we're dealing with, is something that is one with their surroundings and every living thing in it. Except us."

"I plan to go out again in a couple of days. I don't think it's a good idea to let anyone in on this right now. I want it... her, to be safe and the fact is... I don't know the reaction this would get out of others."

They all agreed, it would be their secret for now. 

********

Passing Jorvaskr on his way up to Dragon's Reach he paused. He hadn't even thought of them in all of this. He knew the older of the circle would know to let her alone, she didn't pose a threat to anyone... but the younger ones, he wasn't so sure of. Maybe he'd stop in before he went back out, just to see where the land laid.


	5. In The Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire burning, he stretched out on the bedroll, his shoulders propped up against a downed tree. It was peaceful, chewing on dried beef and listening to the crickets and frogs, the running water. He could still smell it everywhere, but he had absolutely no idea where it was.
> 
> It wasn't a bad smell, just different. It didn't fit an animal, but not man either. Kind of a combination.

*******

Farkas knelt beside where the campfire had been, rubbing his fingers into the dried blood on the ground he brought them to his nose. Dunmer... but all around the blood was the scent of whatever had been at the mine. Hrongar had reeked of it when he came into Jorvaskr, telling them he'd killed some bandits here. He'd been acting funny too.

The trail of blood led to the burnt pile of bandits Hrongar had mentioned. That was odd. Of course there was blood where he'd killed them in battle, but this was right by the campfire, right by where he'd slept for the night. Hrongars scent was more concentrated in this area, as well as the other's scent.

Someone had gone to the trouble of scuffing the ground up all over the campsite, Hrongar knew about it and was hiding it, he just knew it. 

He knew he couldn't trail him while he was out, the older Nord was far too experienced for that, he'd only end up getting caught. Why would he hide it though? He just couldn't figure it out. Skjor wouldn't be hunting with him for a couple of days, that was fine. He would check it out alone, in human form, today.

The scent led from the campsite, out to the same pines he'd followed it to last time.

Wearing his wolf armor, his broadsword on his back along with a knapsack and bedroll, he'd set off. He had told Skjor he just wanted some time out alone, knowing it wasn't exactly normal for him, he'd gotten some funny looks. That was normally his brother's thing, but he was an adult now and so no one would question it. There weren't any jobs waiting right now anyways.

Not sure if he'd have to be gone over night, he wanted to be prepared. He followed the scent into the forest. There had been some light tracks in the ground here and there, away from the camp. Evidently Hrongar hadn't thought of that.

The farther in he got, the stronger it was. He stopped, bent down on his knees and sniffed the ground. The scent no longer on the ground, he stood back up. Lifting his head to the sky, he turned in a slow circle breathing in with his mouth open, letting the air glide across his tongue. The scent was still there, looking around... he looked up into the pines. Slowing his breathing to listen, there was nothing out of the ordinary. 

He loved having the beast blood, his senses were so sharp, even in this form. It gave them an edge above everyone else.

Of course there were some other urges that were harder to control, that came along with it. Around the full moon it was tough... but he was working on that. Skjor and Kodlak had lectured him on those urges, they wanted them both to be careful. They'd told them that a lot of women would want them, just because they were Companions. He didn't want to end up a father, before he was ready.

When they were younger, Skjor would always get women, when they traveled together. He told Farkas to let the woman use their mouth on him and vice versa.

Skjor would smack his arm and smile, saying 'Fingers and mouth boy, finger's and mouth!' 

Good experience and no worries, that was fine with him. The women were happy enough and he was learning things, Skjor always looked out for him. 

He had time, he was young... besides, he wanted to find his true mate, not just any woman that wanted a tumble. Anytime he talked about it to Vilkas, he said he was being a romantic fool! 

If being smart made you unhappy, then he was happy not being smart.

Evidently it was a climber. Walking over to a tree, he put his nose to it and sniffed all over the bark... it was stronger. Looking up, he walked from tree to tree sniffing, the scent swiftly going higher than he could touch. Pretty far in, and not being able to pin point it, he stopped. When he looked up all he could see were the pines, and nothing to give him an idea where it was. 

Up ahead he could see a small clearing, where a stream ran through the forest. He would make camp there tonight.

Fire burning, he stretched out on the bedroll, his shoulders propped up against a downed tree. It was peaceful, chewing on dried beef and listening to the crickets and frogs, the running water. He could still smell it everywhere, but he had absolutely no idea where it was. It wasn't a bad smell, just different. It didn't fit an animal, but not man either. Kind of a combination.

He knew it was probably watching him too, but he didn't feel uneasy at all. He almost wanted to talk out loud to it, he wondered if it would understand. Taking a drink of mead, he decided he'd feel too silly doing that.

He would just listen and watch.

Fighting to keep his eyes open, he corked the bottle. He might as well try to sleep, it didn't come easy with this gift so he took it whenever he could. He slept better outside anyway.... slowly he let his eyes fall shut.

*********

From high above, nestled in the branches... eyes watched him while he slept.

Taking in every little movement, breathing in his smell. He still smelled a lot like his wolf form, just not as strong.

It wondered why he followed it, he didn't leave food like the other. Wanting a closer look, but deciding it wasn't safe enough yet, it would watch until sleep came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Farkas is wearing wolf armor. Which I think is more fitting.


	6. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had changed so quickly! Within seconds, she lunged toward the tree she had been in, bringing her feet up, she sprang off from it in his direction! Turning her body mid-flight, the bone in one hand... a scream ripping from her throat!
> 
> Clearing the spit...
> 
> He closed his eyes... he trusted her. He couldn't kill her...

*********

Farkas returned the next morning, he'd woke several times just because of his erratic sleep patterns. Nothing was different, the scent hadn't changed. 

He'd searched all over the area he'd made camp for the night, nothing, not a single print. Feeling discouraged, he had decided to get back to Jorvaskr, he knew other opportunities would come. 

He would have to be patient.

********

He couldn't wait another day, he had to go out again. There wasn't anything required of him at Dragon's Reach, as he'd already handled all the local problems. He was going stir crazy, Balgruuf had noticed and had pretty much told him to go away! He was making him nervous with all of his pacing. He made the excuse that he was just eager to get in some hunting.

Summer was coming to a close, the days were getting shorter, leaves were starting to change color. All he could think about was being able to get a closer look at her. Passing Anoriath at his stand, he let him know he was on his way out. They would be waiting for word once he returned.

He walked into the pines with his gear, he'd followed tracks here the other morning. He had done his best to cover her tracks that had been all over the bandit's campsite, in hopes that they wouldn't be noticed and she'd be safe.

Going toward a clearing, he would make camp by the stream, he knew this area well. Hunting here many times, he wondered exactly how many of those times, she'd been watching him and him being completely unaware... it still sent shivers up his spine.

He stopped, looking around. The remnants of a fire, large tracks of a man. Someone had made camp here, the coal bed was still warm, smoke smell still present in the air. He hadn't noticed anyone while he'd walked here, the forest was quiet.

Whoever it was had laid by the downed tree, he could see bits of dried beef in the dirt. Kneeling down, he smelled the log and around it, swearing he could smell a faint dog smell. He was already paranoid of the two youngest finding out about the Bosmer, he didn't really know why. He just feared they wouldn't be able to reign it in if they saw her, and he wanted her safe.

He didn't really understand why he felt that way, maybe because she was on her own. He just couldn't imagine a small child being left to the wilds. She was so tiny, it upset him that she would have no choice, but to live as an animal to survive. Even though she seemed very well suited for it.

 _Why would one of them make camp here?_ He thought about it while he got the camp readied, then he would hunt.

*******

Venison roasted on the spit, bits of grease sizzling and popping as they fell into the fire. Wrapping up the parts he wanted, the carcass was left behind. He split a small log and placed it across the fire from him. Leaving the tenderloin on the log... raw. In his opinion, it was the best cut of the deer. She was worth it. Boots off, he leaned against the downed tree on his bedroll, drinking his mead. 

Now all there was to do, was wait. The sun had just gone down, a faint red glow still on the edge of the sky. His stomach growling as he turned the venison, it was almost done.

He would cut it right off the spit when it was ready, no need for a plate. He opened another bottle of mead, bread and apple waiting sliced up on a piece of leather. Apple went great with venison.

Tipping the bottle back, looking upward for just a moment... he saw her. In a lower branch, crouched. Partially concealed by pine needles, she was watching him. He lowered the bottle, setting it down. Raising up his hand, he pointed at the raw loin on the wood, "That's for you..." he said softly. 

Then waited... watching her, his heart was racing. He had to try and keep calm, he didn't want her to sense his apprehension.

She watched him, he could see her nose working from here. Her mouth was slightly open, her little pink tongue visible as she tasted the air. Glancing again at the meat he'd set aside for her, she turned and disappeared around the tree where he couldn't see her.

She may have plenty of dried meat stored up, but she couldn't turn down raw... he knew it.

For a moment he feared she'd left, then her head appeared from behind the trunk, she was on the ground. He stayed still, watching as she slowly approached. Crouched low to the ground, her nose and mouth taking in the scent, but her eyes never left him. Trying to appear as relaxed as possible, his hands clasped over his stomach... he could finally see her good.

It was definitely a girl, old enough to be developed good... small, but completely evident. Dark tan skin, with a bluish-green tattooing around the bottom of each eye running down the side of her face along the cheek bones and temples, coming up her chin and across her lower lip. 

A tiny little nose, large almond shaped eyes, a warm amber-brown in color. Slightly full lips and bright white teeth, with the signature pointed canines all Bosmer had. He'd seen those first hand the other night. Wearing animal skins and fur, only her forearms and feet were bare. That would most definitely change once cooler weather came.

Across her scalp ran multiple braids, tied off at the ends with strips of leather. Evidently she'd been old enough to remember some of the things she'd been taught, perhaps maybe picking up some things from watching hunters and bandits over the years. It was evident that she observed _all_ that took place in her domain, unbeknownst to those she was observing of course.

It made him wonder how much she actually knew, could she speak? If she could speak before going feral, would she even remember how? How much did she remember from her parents?

Her little pointed ears poked through the braids, they were somewhat tilted outward as she approached the meat... interesting. She came to a stop in front of the meat, on her knees, the toes of her feet still connected to the ground in case she had to move fast. One forearm resting in front of the meat the other arm outstretched, hand on the ground.

Her eyes locked onto his, growling softly while she smelled the meat. He smiled, "It's okay little one... it's okay..." he said softly. 

She seemed to relax a little, he was starting to think his voice was soothing to her. He couldn't understand why she had decided to show herself to him. What was it about him that made it okay? He'd been a prevalent hunter in the area for years, maybe he was just so familiar that she felt he was safe to be around? It was a mystery... and one that hopefully one day, he would find out.

Bringing one hand to the meat, she sank her teeth in, still looking at him. She was no longer growling, that was a good sign. Tearing a piece of it out, she leaned back a little while she chewed. She seemed to be curious of what was on the spit as well, he noticed that she kept eyeing it. Reaching up, he cut two pieces off. She stopped chewing as soon as he moved, but didn't shy away like at the bandit camp. There was enough space between them, that she knew she could get away fast if needed.

He put one piece on the leather next to the bread and apple, then he took a bite of the piece he had in his hand. She watched him chew it, she kept looking from his mouth to the piece he still held. Then she looked to the piece he had laid down. Her nose twitching. She was a beautiful little thing, even with her mouth all covered in blood.

Reaching over, he gently pushed the piece of leather closer to her. She swallowed, looking from it to him... she lowered down. Hugging the ground again, moving slowly toward it, around the fire and toward him. She was only a few feet from him now, he couldn't help but smile. She was smelling the cooked meat, then the apple. She seemed to have no interest in the bread at all.

"You can have it, its okay..."

Her eyes raised to his, quickly she grabbed the piece of meat. He still hadn't moved. She sat back on her feet, knees bent inspecting the meat, feeling it and smelling it. She watched him as he took another bite.

An almost excited look took over her face, suddenly she put the venison in her mouth... all of it! Instantly her face pulled into a grimace, her hands flew to her mouth spitting the meat into them. She dropped it, then put her hands back to her mouth, covering it. She looked at him like 'How could you!'

He burst out laughing and she jumped back, still looking disgusted. He held his stomach laughing, unable to stop... the look on her face was priceless! She went to the stream behind them on all fours, putting her mouth to the water to drink. He was in awe, just watching her move about. She was absolutely amazing... so agile, and so graceful. Almost catlike. 

When she returned, she took her place back before the tenderloin he'd given her, this time only glancing at him before taking a bite. This was good, they were getting used to each other. For awhile they ate in silence, he couldn't seem to get the stupid grin off his face. He wanted to try to communicate with her, she almost acted as if she understood the things he would say to her.

After a bit, they were done eating, and things were peaceful. She was sitting on her bottom, feet in front of her, with her arms wrapped around her knees. Constantly watching him. He wondered what it was like for her to be in someone else's company, she didn't seem to be in a rush to leave him. He wanted to try something.

Leaning in towards her just a little. "Can you speak?" She tilted her head, looking at him intensely.

"Do you have a name?" Her eyebrows knitted together a little, she looked down then back up to him... she was thinking about what he said, she had to be! Bringing her hands up to her mouth, she covered her mouth with both of them, slightly turning away from him. 

Now he wasn't sure whether to be quiet or keep talking to her. Had he upset her? After a few minutes, she removed her hands and got up to move.

She started towards him, his heart sped up. Moving very slowly on all fours. Trying to keep his voice even, "Can you talk to me?" he said quietly. 

She paused, her knees and feet on the ground right next to his leg. She was looking into his face... she was so close. He held his breath, he was frozen... afraid to move. 

She raised one hand to her mouth, the other was coming towards his face, her fingers just barely touching his lips. Her head tilted slightly, she looked like she wanted to tell him something so badly! 

Instantly! her face distorted! A deep guttural growl erupting from her mouth! Her teeth bared, ears pinned to her head, she backed up around the spit, hissing! Shocked, he put his hands up defensively.

"What did I do? What... what!"

His chest clenched in fear... he didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want to be attacked either! He didn't know what to do! His eyes flashed down to his sword laying beside him, and she didn't even notice. He felt sick! 

For the first time, he noticed what looked like a sharpened piece of bone hanging at her waist. It blended in almost perfectly with the fur she was wearing, and he'd been so distracted. How could he be so careless!

She had changed so quickly! Within seconds, she lunged toward the tree she had been in, bringing her feet up, she sprang off from it in his direction! Turning her body mid-flight, the bone in one hand... a scream ripping from her throat!

Clearing the spit...

He closed his eyes... he trusted her. He couldn't kill her...

She flew past his head! He felt the rush of air, as her body moved by him! He'd never heard screams like that, so like an animal, and yet not like any animal he'd ever heard. He could hear loud thrashing in the forest behind the camp!

Then he heard what she was fighting. Wolves.

Everything happened so fast! Grabbing his sword, he jumped up! It was so black out, he could barely see. A piece of wood from the fire in one hand, his sword in the other, in stocking feet he ran into the forest. The noise was moving away from camp, he had no idea how many there were.

By Talos, if she got killed trying to save him, he didn't know what he'd do!

Running toward the noise, trying to see. Everything went quiet.

He stopped, straining to hear. Nothing. 

He walked until he saw the wolves, two dead ones... torn up and bloody.

She was gone.


	7. Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without warning her Ata grabbed her! He knelt down, looking her right in the face!
> 
> He whispered, "Sunnabe! Stay hidden... stay silent! No matter what you hear! Do you understand?" she had nodded. Someone was coming, she could hear them now. Her Mother looked at him, fear in her eyes... drawing her daggers!
> 
> She was nodding, tears were coming... "Remember... Silent!"
> 
> He kissed her and shoved her up the tree! His words burning into her mind.

*********

Circling back toward the stream, she had to get the blood off. She hurt everywhere. She needed to see where she was bleeding from and couldn't while she was covered in the wolves blood too. Going into the water, she could hear him behind her in the forest. He was looking for her. She needed to stay away until she was better. That would be hard.

It upset her to be so distracted. She could've drawn the wolves away. That didn't mean they would stay away. Sometimes the predators weren't as easily swayed as the more peaceful creatures. Especially when the smell of blood was in the air. Much of it depended on how hungry they were. 

Even as she was upset at herself for being distracted, it was getting to the point that she hated not being around the man. At first it was comforting just to follow, and watch and listen. Now the comfort she got from his company outweighed the fear she felt at being seen. She knew that she was safe with him. 

As she washed, she could see her injuries now, except the ones in her back. Those would be hard to deal with.. She needed to get to her tree. She walked down the stream bed for awhile, until she had passed the man's camp. Hoping he wouldn't be able to find her trail. 

She still felt the need to keep her home hidden, that might never change. 

She climbed, blood running down her back and arms. Untying the flap, she climbed in and retied it. Her home was up high in the pines, tied together in the branches from skins woven over and around many times. She had used the sap, sticking a layer of skins on the very outside covered in the needles, so that it would stay dry, and it blended right into the rest of the canopy. 

On the inside was more skins and furs. She had just enough room to store some supplies, the few things she had scrounged from camps and the spot where she slept. Her bow was tied up above her with strips of leather, so it was out of the way. It was warm and dry, and it smelled like her and pine.

Quickly pulling some skins out, she got onto them. Not wanting blood all over, she cut off what remained of her ruined coverings and put them into a pile next to her. She would bury them once she felt better. Grabbing a thick hide bowl, she opened the flap on it and scooped out some paste, applying it to her wounds.

The wounds on her back were impossible to get to. Smearing the paste on a larger strip of leather, she tied it around her to stop the blood flow. Watching animals, birds and others foraging, she had learned what plants were good for healing. Some she would eat and some she would smash with a stone and put the paste where she hurt.

She also knew that once she relaxed, she could get the warm light to come out of her hands. It was hard to while she was still so upset. Her mother had taught her when she was so small, it would glow all around her and then she would feel better.

It was very warm inside, she sat naked with nothing but the leather bandages on. Having only had one more set of coverings that she could wear, she he would have to put more together. She was constantly collecting and gathering. All skins and furs were kept to fortify her home, and to make coverings for her body and feet.

Especially now that the leaves were starting to get color. She only had so much time to prepare. The cold season here was hard.

Looking into the corner where she slept, she crawled over to it... pulling out a bundle wrapped in fur. 

Unwrapping it, a tiny bow... made of bone. Her first bow. She picked it up, rubbing her fingers over the marks engraved on it. They were worn down now, she hadn't looked at it in so long. It made her heart ache. It made her remember.

Remembering him, her Ata... how he had cried the first time he'd had to burn wood to keep them warm. She'd sat in his lap, reaching up to his face to dry his tears.

He tried to explain to her, "Sunnabe, this is not our homeland. We must use everything here." 

He had looked so sad, "Things that we would never use in our homeland." She didn't really remember much about her first home now, the memories faded after awhile. Most of what she could recall came to her only in dreams now.

At first she was never without her bow, she'd even slept with it. He made it for her when they had first come to live there, and she felt like she still had him when it was near. She couldn't think of her mother... she wouldn't. It hurt too much. Putting the bow down, just looking at it the pain was coming back. 

Putting her fists up to her head, she didn't want to remember! It was all coming back into her mind, like it was happening all over again. 

They had been out hunting, and they'd made camp. She was playing on the ground around the water's edge... playing with her doll. Without warning her Ata grabbed her! He knelt down, looking her right in the face!

He whispered, "Sunnabe! Stay hidden... stay silent! No matter what you hear! Do you understand?" she had nodded. 

Someone was coming. She could hear them now. Her mother looked at him with fear in her eyes, drawing her daggers!

She was nodding, the tears were coming... "Remember... Silent!"

He kissed her and shoved her up the tree! His words burning into her mind.

She had stayed hidden. She had stayed silent.

She hadn't spoken since. 

All she could think about now, was what the man had said to her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know her name. She felt panicked, she remembered a lot of the words her Ata had taught her. She had learned many of the man's words just from listening to them over the years as she watched and followed.

Over the years she had tried to push back the pain, to feel nothing. She put the bow away. She couldn't push it back anymore. She had to try. She had to try for him. Terrified to make a sound, cupping her hands around her mouth, she would be very quiet. 

"Sssss..." she covered her mouth, tears running down her cheeks. "Ssssss" shaking her head, her hands on her mouth.

Rocking back and forth, she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ata, of course, means Father in Aldmeris/Ayleid


	8. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skjor sat back, taking it all in. "So, this is what's had Farkas in an uproar." Smiling, he chuckled and slapped his leg.
> 
> His eyes got huge, "What do you mean! Farkas knows?"
> 
> Skjor just shook his head, "No, he knows there's something out there, he smelled it but could never find it. He's been after me to hunt with him, so he can try and track it down."
> 
> "I doubt he'd hurt her, but now that I know..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **please note that only a select few know about the circle's beast blood and it's kept secret.**

*******

He was panicked! He looked and looked, but it was just way too dark. At least he hadn't found her dead. He kept thinking _What if I find her and she's badly hurt?_

He wasn't a healer, he had absolutely no magic skills to speak of. He knew some Nords that could at least heal themselves in times of emergency. 

He had nothing. Knowing only the most basic alchemy to make healing potions, when he had absolutely no other choice. And even then, he'd felt ridiculous asking Farengar for help in showing him! The Wizard had actually chastised him! Telling him that if more of their people would resist their bullheaded tendencies and learn a little bit, they'd live much longer and healthier lives!

Finally he turned back to camp. He kept feeling that if he hadn't lured her in, maybe this wouldn't have happened. But then again, if he'd been out here alone he wouldn't have known the wolves were behind him. Who was he kidding! It could've happened anytime, wolves were a blasted nuisance! 

Cleaning up the scattered food around the fire, he couldn't help but stop and look at her prints... where she'd sat.

Shaking his head, looking upward he let out a sharp breath of frustration! 'I've definitely gone soft...' 

He would look again at first light.

And as soon as the sun was up decent in the sky, he did. This time, he could see a blood trail going away from where the dead wolves were. Now he _knew_ she had been injured! Following it back to the stream, that's where it ended. He crossed the stream and walked down both sides, nothing.

He had no idea where her home was, he wouldn't even know where to start. He figured it was in Whiterun hold, somewhere close to the city at least. She seemed to be near where _he_ was most of the time, he didn't think she would travel too far away from where she slept. But it was still summer, the nights were warm... would she just sleep anywhere? He didn't think so.

He had to get back to town, maybe he should get Skjor involved. He hated to do that, he hated to give her away, but they would be able to smell her scent. They would probably be able to smell where the blood picked back up, he would keep it from the twins if he asked him. 

He couldn't stand not knowing! What if she was somewhere dying? or already dead? No! he wouldn't even think that!

He and Skjor were friends, he knew he would help him.

He needed to talk with Elrindir and his brother first. They would be able to give him advice... and he would listen, as long as it didn't involve just letting it go! Hopefully they would agree with him. He didn't want to mar such a long friendship.

Jorvaskr would be a last resort.

*********

Pounding on the door, Elrindir opened up. Taking in his appearance, his look, instantly changing to one of concern.

Sitting with them, mead in hand, he recounted the entire night... everything. Then, he told them of his plans.

Elrindir shook his head, "You need to wait." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Hrongar stiffened up. "Hrongar, please... you have to understand." 

Knowing his Nord friend's temperament, he put up his hands, trying to get him to calm enough to listen to reason. "You said there was a blood trail, right? That means that she's injured, she's probably gone back to her home to heal." 

Hrongar was already on his feet, heading towards the door. Anoriath stayed back, letting his brother follow their friend.

Elrindir reached out, taking him by the shoulder. Hrongar whirled around, his jaw set. Elrindir stepped back, "Hrongar, if you do this! If you do this, you may push her further away. She didn't come back to the camp for a reason! You have to trust, that she did what was best for her! And... maybe, what was best for you, as well." 

**********

He knew he looked like shit twice over, he didn't care. He went directly to Jorvaskr. Walking in, he dropped his gear right by the door. 

There was no one in the mead hall but a couple of whelps, he walked out back. As soon as he stepped out, he saw him. "Skjor!..." he looked up at Hrongar, slight smile on his lips. They took each other's arm in greeting. "Just here for a visit? " his eyebrows raised... just looking at Hrongar, he could tell something was wrong. 

Trying to be cautious, Hrongar looked up from Skjor before speaking. Farkas was in the courtyard with his brother, he had stopped what he was doing and was watching them...'Great!' Leaning in a little, he lowered his voice "Can I speak with you in private?" Skjor just nodded and walked toward the doors. 

Once inside his quarters, he sat down across from the other Nord and handed him a bottle. "You've looked better.." 

Setting the bottle down, Hrongar ran his hands over his shaved head, and looked up at him..."Skjor, I need your help..." his eyes almost pleading, he didn't care. He had to find her.

He told him everything, "Skjor... she more than likely saved my life! I can't just leave her out there, not knowing if she made it. She got hurt protecting me." 

Skjor sat back, taking it all in... "So, this is what's had Farkas in an uproar." Smiling, he chuckled and slapped his leg. 

His eyes got huge, "What do you mean! Farkas knows?" 

Skjor just shook his head, "No, he knows there's something out there, he smelled it but could never find it. He's been after me to hunt with him, so he can try to track it down.... I doubt he'd hurt her, but now that I know..."

"I don't want the twins to know yet!, I want to find her first and make sure that she's alright." 

Skjor was nodding, "We were trying to keep her a secret, afraid that the more that knew, the more danger she'd be in."

"You were right to keep it quiet, a lot of people may not feel about it the way you all do." 

"You can smell better in wolf form right? Could you track her?, I'll follow behind you..."

"Is Elrindir alright with this? I mean you've talked to him? Ya know... to see if this is the wisest thing? I mean, what if she thinks we're trying to attack her. " 

Hrongar just shook his head, "No... They didn't think I should go after her, they told me I should just leave it. If she's alright, I'll see her again!" 

"Skjor, I can't do that!... I have to see if she's alright!!"

Shaking his head, he let out a deep breath. "Look, I'm in... it'll be you and me. No one else needs be the wiser."

They stood, Hrongar grabbed his shoulder, "You don't know how much this means to me, Skjor. Really!"

"No worries. We'll find her, I'll get ready and meet you just inside the pines, I'll already be changed so be ready."

Hrongar turned and opened the door, "Farkas!" He stood in the hallway, staring at Skjor's door... His heart about stopped, for a split second they just stared at each other... 

He turned to Skjor, "I'll see you." Glancing at Farkas as he walked around him.

Skjor stood in his room, looking at the larger of the twins, standing in the hallway... staring at him. 

"I suppose you heard all that..."


	9. What I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could tell the boy felt bad for eaves dropping. Farkas wasn't one for dishonesty. "Well... shit."
> 
> There was no choice, but to take the lad. "Hrongar's gonna be pissed either way. Now that you know, there's no sense in you stayin here, come on." Farkas' face busted into a grin, ear to ear. Skjor couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. 
> 
> They walked to the underforge, they would leave that way. Less noticeable.
> 
> Farkas bumping his shoulder playfully while they walked. "Two noses are better than one, right?" A huge smile gracing his young face.

*******

Grabbing his gear, he left. He hoped he was doing the right thing... it had to be the right thing! She had no one!

He walked past the meat counter, Anoriath wasn't there. He paused then kept going. There wouldn't be any hard feelings, no matter who turned out to be in the right of it. He could admit when he was wrong, but... in this case, he would need proof that he was. 

He was the only one she had, he wasn't going to turn his back on her. There was no way that he could live with that! 

*********

Skjor pulled Farkas into the room, shutting the door behind them. He really didn't have time for this, Hrongar was going to be waiting for him. The sun was already low on the horizon, they only had a couple hours of daylight left. "What all did you hear Farkas?" He waited... Farkas looked down at the floor, sheepishly.

Looking down at his feet, "Enough... I'm sorry Skjor. I want to be a part of it, I needed to know." 

He could tell the boy felt bad for eaves dropping. Farkas wasn't one for dishonesty. "Well... shit." 

There was no choice, but to take the lad. "Hrongar's gonna be pissed either way. Now that you know, there's no sense in you stayin here, come on." 

Farkas' face busted into a grin, ear to ear. Skjor couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. They walked to the underforge, they would leave that way. Less noticeable.

Farkas bumping his shoulder playfully while they walked. "Two noses are better than one, right?" A huge smile gracing his young face. 

"Yeah, I guess." He smiled back at him. He couldn't be mad at him, both the boys had been about as close to son's as he'd ever get. Kodlak had been with them the longest, but they were still pretty young when he joined. He'd spent a lot of time with them, training and hunting. He and Kodlak both, had taken a fair part in teaching them to be the men they would become. 

Going into the underforge, "Now, listen. We're only gonna track her, once we find where she is, we back off... we wait." Farkas nodded, his heart doing double time. He couldn't wait, especially now that he knew what it... she was. Skjor looked him in the eye, serious like. "You keep it reigned in, you understand?" 

"I will Skjor, I promise." He knew how important this was, otherwise, Hrongar wouldn't have been hiding her. He also knew Hrongar was going to be angry that he knew, he didn't want to do anything to make it worse.

They would look around quickly before leaving out the back way, just to make sure it was all clear. It was almost dusk anyway. Getting undressed, they got ready...

**********

Approaching the gates, Elrindir and his brother stood, waiting for him. He took a deep breath, trying to prepare for whatever was coming. They looked calm enough, both were armed with their bows. He walked up to them and stopped, looking back an forth, between them.

"We want to help. I still stand by what I said earlier... but, I know how important this is to you. Our friendship is more important than any disagreement." Anoriath stood silent by his brother, nodding his agreement. 

A slight smile touching his lips, Hrongar raised a hand to the Mer's shoulder. "Thank you, but just so you know... we still would've been friends." 

He chuckled. "You know how hard headed I am."

Walking out the gates together, all laughing now, Elrindir rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do."

As they walked, he filled them in. He knew Skjor would be waiting for him in the pines, he also knew the form he would be in. They needed to be prepared. 

"I went to Skjor for help." The Bosmers instantly stopped walking. He stopped and faced them, "I knew I needed help tracking her, that's all he's helping with. Look, I know we agreed this would just be between us... I was in a tough spot."

Moving forward again, Anoriath nudged his brother, "Skjor will keep it secret, you know we can trust him."

Elrindir stopped again, looking at his brother with concern. Everyone halted, "It's not that, I _know_ we can trust him. It's the form he will be in... it unnerves me." He started walking again, staring straight ahead. Anoriath shot Hrongar an apologetic look. Themselves and the Jarl, were the only ones that knew of the circle other than Eorlund.

They were understanding of it. They were all close and they respected the Companion's privacy, they protected not only Whiterun, but all of Skyrim. It was accepted amongst the ones that knew, simply because they had it under control... it had been that way for many, many years. 

Knowing all of this... knowing who they were, none of that made it any easier to be around one of them in that form. It was downright scary. 

They headed into the pines. 

*********

By the time they got into the trees, it was dark enough they couldn't see. Walking slow, they could already smell Skjor. Elrindir cast a candlelight spell, the ball of light lifting from his palm. This would be easier than carrying a torch, their hands would be free to use their weapons if need be. Letting their eyes adjust to having some light, they peered around, trying to spot him. The small hairs on Elrindir standing at attention as the smell got stronger.

Farther in, deep in the shadows... two sets of yellow eyes, glowed in the darkness of the trees. 

The two Bosmer panicked, raising their bows. Elrindir looking between the glowing eyes and Hrongar, his voice unsure, "I thought you said it would just be him! How do we even know it _is_ him!"

Hrongar raising a hand to both his friends, halting them, and one to the werewolves. He knew what was going on, and he knew who the other one was! He called out, "Skjor!" He was pissed.

Skjor motioned to Farkas, they needed to advance very slowly. He didn't want anyone getting hurt because someone panicked, especially given that arrows were now aimed in their direction. Slowly, they came out of the shadows, keeping a distance between them.

Hrongar knew _exactly_ who was who! He moved closer to them, looking directly at Farkas. Farkas, even being in his wolf form, instinctively took a step back. He knew Hrongar was angry... very angry, he didn't need to just smell it on him to know. 

Hrongar pointed at him, "You and I are gonna have a chat, when we get back!" Farkas looked over at Skjor, keeping his head low.

Anoriath found it very amusing, almost hilarious. Watching him scold the werewolf, Hrongar never ceased to amaze him. He was truly, unafraid of anything... except losing this wild Bosmer. He and his brother had spoke on the situation numerous times, the only conclusion... this was Hrongar's fatherly instinct coming out. It had to be.

Turning his head slightly, "It's Farkas! It's alright." He motioned them closer.

With everyone in a group, "Skjor and Farkas will scout ahead, we'll start at the camp and go to the spot where she killed the wolves. That's where her blood trail starts. We will follow behind. Once they have a lock on her, they will back off and let us take over." He looked at all of them in turn. "Agreed?" Everyone nodded, eyeing each other.

*********

It didn't take long at all to find the scent, Farkas had it ingrained in his memory... in his nose. She had a very distinct smell. Everything in him... every nerve, every instinct, was on hyper overdrive. Keeping his mouth open, letting the scent glide over his tongue, he was drooling. Completely unaware of the saliva dripping down onto his fur, completely unaware that Skjor was now, watching _him_ instead of where they were going.

Suddenly, he stopped. Muzzle to the ground, each breath blowing the leaves around. The group, now behind him, watching him. Moving ahead, he slowed... a pool of her blood, still sticky on the forest bed. He buried his nose into it, licking it. It was too much... he couldn't handle it! He was fully erect!

Going down onto his side, he rolled in it. He wanted his fur coated in her scent. He wanted her!

The Mer and Hrongar stared in shock, backing away. Hrongar looked at Skjor, his eyes wide! He had to get him under control!

Skjor huffing at him, as he righted himself up on all fours. His massive body shook, fur shifting all around him... tiny, sticky droplets of her blood flying off everywhere. He slowly moved forward. She was close... he could smell her, and not just her blood. She was watching them. He could feel it.

Just a few more feet. He knew they were all on his heels, he knew he was supposed to back off once she was found. He just couldn't make his feet stop moving. 

His hackles raised, as an eerie keening noise escaped him. 

Slowing to a stop, he looked into the tree ahead... they'd found her.


	10. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Hrongar had seen it all! Looking at Skjor, knowing the Nord couldn't answer him in this form, he'd say it anyway!
> 
> Lifting his hand, pointing at Farkas. "Did he just mark that fuckin tree!?" 
> 
> Looking at the Bosmer in shock, his hand still in the air. "He just marked that tree!"

*******

Still on all fours, he could see her just as plain as day. Skjor could too, the others wouldn't be able to though. She was in the lowest branch, watching them... all of them.

He had to get himself under control. He didn't want to scare her or anger her. He knew she would be no match for him, that wasn't his worry. He didn't want her to be his enemy. What was going through his head, through every sense he had... mate.

Their eyes locked, everyone and everything else, faded into the distance. They looked at each other, studying each other. He laid down, he would take the less dominant position to make her comfortable. He wanted her to know that he wasn't a threat. 

The rest of the group slowed, catching up to him. Skjor could see her, he looked at Hrongar, pointing up into the tree.

Then he backed up, he knew there was no moving Farkas. He could smell what was coming off the boy. Still erect, he literally oozed pheromones. Glancing into the tree, the way she was looking at Farkas, he could tell she smelled it as well. There was no sense in doing anything yet. He was laid down, he was okay for now... for now. 

Elrindir cast off another light, but stayed back. As much as they wanted to see her, he knew she was bound to be overwhelmed. She was used to only being around Hrongar, even though she observed everyone else, she had only shown herself to him. This was definitely something new.

Hrongar moved in closer, walking slowly until he could see her in the dim light. Looking at Farkas on the ground, directly under the tree. He was looking up at her, his tail wagging behind him, rustling through the fallen leaves. 

He'd seen the condition he was in, wasn't hard to miss. The boy had a set on him, he was hung. He was definitely going to have to talk to him, _and_ Skjor, when they got back. The way he'd acted scared the shit out of him.

Stopping just in front of the tree, he looked up at her. She'd been glued on Farkas, now she turned her head to look at him. She looked at him, he could see that she was alright. She didn't look like she wanted to come out of the tree, he understood, too many strangers. 

Turning her gaze back to Farkas, he was starting to notice some things. His ears were perked up, and hers were too. Not as much as an animals, not as much as his. But like they were last night around the fire. 

Her head going back, she closed her eyes and let loose with a howl. Every hair on him went up! 

She sounded just like them... just like a real wolf. And Farkas reacted like one too. Instantly, he was up on his hind feet, crying out with his own! Getting closer to the tree. 

Hrongar backed up, looking at Skjor, he didn't know what to do. Farkas got right up to the tree, putting his huge, clawed hands around the trunk. Looking up at her.

She was definitely agitated, but she didn't really seem angry. Circling on the branch that carried her, she began to make a yipping, whining noise. She was acting like an animal, she sounded like an animal... she was communicating with him.

Farkas mimicked the noises, then went down on all fours. He circled the tree, throwing his head back and forth, growling. He dropped onto the ground, rolling on his back. He rolled all over, like he had in her blood. He looked back up at her, growling. She watched him intently, breathing through her open mouth, tasting the air. Hrongar looked at Skjor, then to the Bosmers, they all knew what was taking place. 

This was courtship, he wanted her! Farkas lifted his leg and pissed on the tree.

Now Hrongar had seen it all! Looking at Skjor, knowing the Nord couldn't answer him in this form, he'd say it anyway! Lifting his hand, pointing at Farkas. "Did he just mark that fuckin tree!?" Looking at the Bosmers, his hand still in the air. "He just marked that tree!"

Elrindir burst out laughing, covering his mouth with one hand, holding his stomach with the other. His brother joined in. He didn't know what was more hilarious, the mating ritual taking place between the werewolf and the wild Bosmer, or the fact that Hrongar was trying to act like his little girl was in jeopardy.

Hrongar was pissed, Farkas was out of control and they were laughing. Skjor turned to leave, motioning to him with his hand. He looked at Farkas, he was still there, under the tree on all fours.

Hrongar looked at Elrindir, "Come Hrongar, we need to leave them. We've seen that she's alright, she won't come down. Not with all of us here, and definitely not with him there." He pointed at Farkas.

They turned to leave as well. He started after them, "But we can't just leave him out here! She's not safe!"

Elrindir paused, "He's not going to hurt her Hrongar. Look at him." 

"I see him! It's what he wants to do that worries me!"

"Hrongar, I can guarantee you that nothing is going to happen, unless she wants it to. He can't get up in that tree and even if she is interested, nothing will probably happen right now. These things take time... Come on DAD!" He busted up, turning and walking away. Hrongar was so pissed he wanted to spit nails! He planned on it too, as soon as lover boy back there got back to Jorvaskr!

Skjor was gone, he'd gone back the way they'd come. Hrongar walked back with them, he'd go back to the Huntsman, have dinner and a drink. A few drinks... They had a lot to talk about. Most of it would probably revolve around the display they'd all just witnessed.

*********

They were alone... finally. He knew she wouldn't come down. He knew it would take time, that was fine. He planned on doing everything he could to make her his. Right now, he was so hard, he felt like he would burst. He had to relieve himself. He couldn't do it like this, he'd rip himself to shreds. 

He would change back, she needed to get used to seeing him in human form anyway. He could relieve himself, then wash off in the stream. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone back naked, it wouldn't be the last.

Under the tree, he let the change take him. Thrashing about on the forest bed as he shifted back, there was pain... but now, it almost felt good. A good pain.

She never took her eyes off him, she never tried to leave... she waited. Laying down on the pine needles and leaves, he looked up at her. Her head resting on the branch she lay on, her hair falling all around her, hanging down. He could smell her sex, she was just as aroused as he was. He wanted her so bad. 

Her warm eyes danced all over his body, constantly going back to his cock. So hard it stood straight up. 

He would do it here, in front of her. The more he thought of it, the more turned on he got.

Keeping his eyes on her, he spread his legs, raising his knees. Rubbing his hands all over his chest, down his stomach to the thick hair surrounding him. One hand now rubbing over his cock and balls, the other going back up across his chest. His hips slowly rocking, stroking his length, squeezing as he got to the head. He closed his eyes, his head going back, mouth open. 

She watched him, rubbing all over himself, writhing on the ground. Such a captivating male, strong, powerful, and he wanted her. The smell coming off of him was so strong. Horrible pressure in her lower stomach, her sex was wet, she could smell the scent she was giving off. So tempted to rub herself, but she didn't want to take her eyes off him. 

Over the years, she had seen all different species coupling. She seen many males and females doing exactly what he was doing. Of course they weren't doing it because they wanted her, they hadn't known she was there. Each time she saw it, she'd felt funny. She felt the pressure and the warmth she felt now, not this bad. Numerous times, she'd gone back to her home and had rubbed herself until she felt better... until the pressure went away.

She focused on him, squeezing and rubbing his manhood so hard, crying out. 

**********

Pulling until he couldn't stand it, moving a hand to his head, his seed shooting all over it. He lay there for a moment, just breathing, watching her watch him, as he came down. 

She was beautiful, amazing... and, she was perfect for him. Hrongar had told Skjor that she was trying to communicate. Maybe she wanted the life Hrongar represented, if that was the case, he'd have someone he could be in both forms with.

Keeping it all over his hands, he got up, and walked to the tree. Looking up at her, he lifted his hands to the trunk, right below the branch she was on... and wiped his seed all over it.


	11. Nose To Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, dirt and the remnants of his climax, ran down his body. Laying down in the stream, letting the cold water run over him. Knowing he was making a show of it, he would've never done any of this in front of a regular woman.
> 
> But, there was nothing regular about her. He finally felt like he'd met the woman, he could be his true self with. The woman he could be one with, no matter what form he chose to be in. She would understand him and accept him either way.
> 
> There was a reason he'd found out about this, found out about her... met her.

**********

Rubbing his seed onto the tree, he'd made his point. It was time to leave, he knew he needed to give her time. He turned and headed for the stream. He would clean up and head for the underforge. His clothes were there, he could get dressed and hopefully get a bottle of mead before the lectures began.

He could hear her following him in the trees. She moved when he moved, and stopped when he stopped. Walking into the stream, he sank down onto his knees, splashing the cold water all over him. Blood, dirt and the remnants of his climax, ran down his body. Laying down in the stream, letting the cold water run over him. Knowing he was making a show of it, he would've never done any of this in front of a regular woman.

But, there was nothing regular about her. He finally felt like he'd met the woman, he could be his true self with. The woman he could be one with, no matter what form he chose to be in. She would understand him and accept him either way.

There was a reason he'd found out about this, found out about her... met her.

Nothing would stand in his way.

**********

Vilkas leaned against the stone wall, waiting for his brother. Skjor had come back hours ago. He knew Farkas wouldn't be able to keep it from him, so he'd caved. Telling him about the wild Bosmer and how his brother had acted over her.

Hrongar would most definitely be by tomorrow, to blow off some steam at Farkas... that's all it would be though, steam.

He understood the needs and wants the wolf blood put on you. Skjor and Kodlak had explained this to both of them at the start, then they'd began experiencing these feelings for themselves. As if it wasn't complicated enough, just being a man at times... human. Then to have to deal with the needs of being an animal as well. 

He had also, been sworn to secrecy regarding the Bosmer. That wouldn't be a problem, he had no reason to tell anyone else.

He was about to turn and leave when he heard him come in. Climbing in through the back opening, he was in human form and completely naked. Farkas threw a casual glance his way. 

His entire body was dripping wet, no matter, he bent over to grab his breech. Getting it on, he pulled his leggings on over it, that would be enough for now. He could dry off inside, put on a clean breech and get a drink. 

Feeling his brother's stare burning into his back, it was only a matter of time. "We have a bathing room you know..."

Farkas rolled his eyes, "Yup. Stream works just as well." 

He turned and leaned against the fountain, his arms crossed. Wet hair clinging to his face and neck. "I know you have something to say, Vilkas! Why don't you just spit it out!"

Vilkas ran his hands through his hair, huffing out a breath. "Fine! I'm concerned for you! " 

"You have no reason to be Vilkas. I've never felt better, I'm fine." 

"That is what concerns me! The fact that you... you seem to feel better being an animal, than my brother!" 

His face reddening with anger, "First off... I will always be your brother! No matter the form I'm in!" He was sick of being told how he should be, it stopped here! Here and now! He stepped away from the fountain, pointing his finger at Vilkas accusingly. Vilkas stepped back, shocked... it wasn't like Farkas to be so aggressive. 

"You can't stand it, can you! You can't stand the fact, that I'm better at something than you are! The fact that I'm better at this! I'm not just your stupid brother anymore! You can't just look down on me anymore!" Farkas was slowly moving towards him, he was yelling now, shaking... Vilkas slowly backed away. "Why can't you understand, that I'm not like you! I never will be! When will you accept that? When will you accept me for who I am!" 

He stopped, just looking him in the face. He lowered his voice, "This girl... I've never felt such a connection, with anyone. No one is going to take this from me, Vilkas!... No one!"

He backed off, going back over to the wall, bent over to pick up the rest of his things. "So... when comes the part, where you completely lose your humanity! I don't want that for you Farkas." 

He let out a deep sigh, "Humanity? You call what we do to each other every day, humanity? The wars, the hatred, the killing... that's humanity?" 

He turned to him, tunic and boots in hand. "We are all animals, Vilkas. You get up and choose which weapon you will use each day, will it be a broadsword or your teeth." 

He started towards the door, pausing. "I love you Vilkas, I always will. But, if that's humanity... you can have it."


	12. You & I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as he got into the forest, she got into a tree. She was still a little leery of him, that was okay. After he got her some food, he was betting she'd warm up to him.
> 
> He raised his head, huffing at her in greeting. Rubbing his hind quarter against the tree, he raised his leg and sprayed it. She needed to know he meant business too. 
> 
> She was going to be his.

**********

All night, he'd lain in bed, thinking about her. He couldn't sleep until almost dawn. Then he'd only gotten maybe three hours, he was too excited. He got up and grabbed breakfast, taking it out onto the back porch of Jorvaskr. He walked to the overlook, eating... looking out at the forest.

She had followed him right up to the city wall, keeping a distance between them of course. But, she had still gotten that close! He was giddy, just thinking about her. She was beautiful, so agile, so brilliant and she wanted him!

He felt she was brilliant, maybe not with book knowledge, but she lived as one with everything around her! How many could boast that? Not too many! Hrongar had told Skjor, they figured she'd been wild since she was real small. 

Just to be able to survive... it absolutely blew his mind! It was amazing. She, was amazing!

He wished he could've been there to see what she did after going back to her tree. He could see her home, way up high. It looked just like part of the canopy, a human would never see it. It blended in so well, his wolf blood being the only reason he'd noticed it. So high, no one would ever be able to get to it. 

The back door opened, without even turning, he could smell who it was... Skjor. He knew this was coming. Hrongar would probably be there soon, he knew he was going to hear it from him too. After last nights chat in the underforge, his brother had avoided him. He would for awhile, then he'd come around. Their fights never lasted too long.

Skjor came up from behind him, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. Firm, but not too firm. Time for a fatherly chat. Skjor came up next to him, crossing his arms atop the wall. They both stared out at the trees, "I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to make Hrongar mad... or you." 

Skjor wasn't mad. It was all in the wolf blood, he understood. Farkas was a natural at this, his brother was not. Hence the reason he'd overheard him talking to Kodlak this morning. He wouldn't get in the middle, if Kodlak saw fit to have a talk with Farkas over it, so be it. That would be between them.

He loved both of the boys equally, some just didn't take to the blood the way others did. He never worried over Farkas losing his humanity to it the way some had, the way Vilkas was concerned about. He knew his brother had good intentions, but their differences were complicating this.

Vilkas tended to try and rule over his brother, he tended to criticize his lack of book smarts. Farkas was bigger and stronger, that in the nutshell was Vilkas' problem. Because he was oversensitive about it, he tended to rub his brother's nose in the fact that he was smarter. Farkas had finally found his niche, and he wasn't going to let anyone take it away.

"I'm not mad at you Farkas. I know what it's like. I just want you to know, I'm here for you anytime you need me. Alright?"

Farkas just smiled, he loved Skjor... he really did.

"Just one more thing, your brother's pretty uptight about this. I'm sure you already know that, right? I know I don't have a right to say this, especially after some of the shit, he's said to you. But, take it easy, okay? He's just concerned because he loves you. That don't mean you've gotta change for him, just don't rub it in his face." 

They turned and looked at each other. "I know what you're thinkin too, he'd rub your's in it every chance he got. Wouldn't he." Farkas just nodded, he would too. Vilkas could be relentless when he thought he was right, or if he did something better than him. 

"You're a better man than that Farkas... you know I love him, just as I love you. You both might as well be my own blood. But... well, Vilkas can be a bit of an ass at times. I'm askin you not to be..." 

Farkas nodded, smiling as Skjor gave him a quick hug. He hadn't hugged them since they'd gotten bigger, it was a man thing... had to be. But, he didn't care. He'd take a hug any day. He understood what he said, he didn't like fighting with Vilkas. But he wouldn't take back what he said last night. He meant every word of it.

He'd wait around until late afternoon, see if there were any jobs. Then he would be gone.

***********

Hrongar never came, evidently Skjor had gone up to Dragon's Reach to see him. They sat and talked over some mead, everything was alright. Hrongar was just happy that she was okay.

Skjor also told him that Farkas would be attempting to spend more time with her. And instead of worrying over it, he should be happy about it. Why? Because, the more time he spent with her, the more she would want to spend with him. Meaning, she would eventually get closer and closer to civilization. And hopefully someday, she would be able to, or want to come into the city.

**********

Skipping evening meal, he hurried to the underforge. Leaving his clothes in a heap, he transformed and took off. He wanted to hunt... hunt for her. Hopefully tonight, they'd be having their first meal together. 

It wasn't real dark out yet, so he had to be careful out in the open. Running till he got to a secluded enough area, to stand on his hind legs without being noticed, he sniffed at the air. She was just at the edge of the trees, she was waiting for him. Down on all fours, he took off, running in her direction.

As soon as he got into the forest, she got up into a tree. She was still a little leery of him, that was okay. After he got her some food, he was betting she'd warm up to him.

He raised his head, huffing at her in greeting. Rubbing his hind quarter against the tree, he raised his leg and sprayed it. She needed to know he meant business too. She was going to be his.

He cocked his head, his ears tilted... listening. Tasting the air, very quietly, he walked farther in. She followed along after him in the trees. He wanted something good, something big enough for them to share.

He didn't want to rush, but he really wanted to get closer to her. Forcing himself to walk slowly, he moved in towards the stream he'd cleaned up in last night. The one by her home. He walked upstream for a ways. Getting a little farther from her home. He didn't want a kill right around where she lived, as it would attract other predators.

Finally, he caught wind of them. A small grouping of elk, he stood still, letting the wind carry their smell to him. He ventured a look up at her, her eyes were locked in the same direction. Her mouth open, he could see her little tongue, as she tasted the same smell. He was getting hard. The hunt always got to him... it was a turn on. And being able to hunt with her, even better.

He almost always got himself off afterwards. He'd eat his fill, then he'd roll in it. Covered in blood and bits of his prey, he'd walk till he found a river or a stream, transform back and jack off. When he was done, he'd bathe in the cold water and head back home. 

Completely sated... there was no better feeling in the world.

Slowly, they started moving again. Getting closer, she split off from him, heading around to the back of the prey. She would herd them in towards him. He knew she was brilliant! Here they were, already working as a team. He concentrated, he didn't want anything to go wrong.

She had sped up, no longer within his sight. He could smell them, hear them... they were picking up speed. He zeroed in and froze. They couldn't see him or smell him, they would run right to him.

Hearing their hooves pounding through the forest bed, he got ready to spring. Closer... closer, NOW! The bull was running headlong into him, he leapt up, wrapping his massive jaws around it's throat! The force of the collision, sending them both flying! Locking his jaws up as they hit the ground! Bracing his claws onto the bull, turning his head sharply to the side, breaking it's neck. Finally, letting loose, it dropped to the ground.

Waiting for his breathing and heart beat to slow down, he looked for her. In the tree, on the opposite side of the elk, she watched him. Pushing the bull onto it's back, he swiped his claws over it's gut, opening it up. Steam rose into the night air, blood flowing over his feet.

He looked up at her, swinging his head to the side, motioning for her to join him. He didn't want to start without her. Maybe she didn't like the same parts he did. He'd eat almost anything, except something that was already dead. He wasn't a scavenger. 

Remembering what Hrongar had told Skjor, he turned it onto it's side. Running his claws down the back, he exposed the loins, the most tender meat. He'd offer her the best... the best, for his soon to be mate. She could eat on one side and he'd eat on the other. 

He laid down, facing the open gut of the elk. Watching her. Very slowly, she moved down the tree, coming around from the back to peek at him. She was almost hugging the ground, moving to the back of the elk. Her eyes never left his. She never growled or bared her teeth, not once. Wanting to remove some of the pressure from her, he focused on the meal in front of him. Allowing her to get settled in and eat. He nosed through it, getting hold and tearing off what he wanted.

As he ate, he would allow glances at her, watching her eat. She was even more beautiful now, mouth and cheeks covered in blood. Even her little nose. He raised his head, watching her, panting... his tongue hanging out, what he'd like to do is clean her. Clean her everywhere...

When she stopped, he stopped. Wanting to make sure she was done, he nudged the carcass with his nose. She shook her head. She knew what he was doing and why. He wouldn't roll in this, she may want to use more of it. He wouldn't do anything to keep her needs from being met.

Staying down, he wanted her to come closer. But being patient was hard, he rolled over onto his back. Looking at her upside down, his tongue hanging to one side. Even though he was erect, he didn't want to focus on that, he wanted to play.

His feet in the air, he moved his head from side to side. Wiggling around, rubbing his back into the ground. She was loosening up. He could see her trying to hide her smile from behind the elk. 

He wondered if she would react better, if he was in human form this close. Nothing to lose, if it didn't work, he could try again tomorrow night. He pushed a little farther back, he didn't want to frighten her. He let the change take him. It took a few minutes, breathing through the pain, keeping his erection. It was to the point now, that the sensation of the change alone, could make him hard. Not that he wasn't already. It never made him lose one, if anything, it only made it worse.

He looked over to her, she had moved back about a foot. He turned onto his side, facing her across the elk. Watching her, watch him. She moved closer, she was coming around the carcass. He stayed perfectly still, he would let her come to him. He had no choice, he couldn't move like she could. If he startled her, she'd be gone in a split second, so high in a tree. Then he'd be right back to square one.

His head rested on his folded arm, the other hand on the ground in front of him. His knees were bent, his cock standing straight out from him. She was moving around the head of the elk, toward his feet. He closed his eyes, listening to her, letting his senses go wild. She was so close now, he could feel her breath on his skin. She was smelling him, every breath she blew out rustling through the hairs on his legs.

He was so excited, he was leaking now. This was maddening, having her so close and not being able to move or touch her. He could barely stand it!

She touched her tongue to his legs, then sniffed him again. She was literally working her way up his body. Gods!... he couldn't take it. His breathing was picking up, he struggled to keep control. She was moving up to his thighs... and his manhood, jutting out, hard as a rock. He opened his eyes, just a tiny bit. She had her face right in front of his cock, she was inspecting him. Bringing her face closer to it, she sniffed, sticking out her tongue to taste a drop that had hit the leaves. Moving up, he almost blew out a breath of relief.

He watched as she lay down, right next to him, Her face level with his, her braids splayed out all around her. Both of their faces bloody, he knew it must have been a sight. His hair was sticking to his face, coated in it. Oh well... They were close to the stream, they could wash up before he left. 

With just inches between them, he was happy to just lay with her... be with her. Trying to focus on right now, was hard. He couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring.


	13. Human Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He slowly rubbed the tips of her fingers with his. She smiled... and hid her face in the leaves. She was adorable. Her huge almond shaped eyes, delicate pointed ears, tiny nose... and the most perfect lips he'd ever seen. With bright white, little fangs.
> 
> A deep rumble rose from his chest, as he chuckled. She peeked at him, he wanted to just grab her up and snuggle her. In his human form, she'd probably rip him a new asshole if he did. He knew she would, and that revelation just made him laugh all the harder.

*********

Laying there, watching her, he started to wonder how far she'd let him go. He didn't want to scare her, but... after all, if she was comfortable being just a few inches away. Very slowly, he slid his hand closer to hers. She tensed up, but she didn't move. His fingers were right next to hers, laying on the leaves. He waited a moment, then slid his fingers closer, watching her. 

Just the very tips of his fingers were touching hers. She jerked, but stayed. Of course, she looked like she might bolt if he moved further. He smiled at her, showing his teeth. The corners of her lips kept twitching, like she wanted to smile. But she was nervous. He noticed before, when she'd smiled at him, she'd hidden behind the elk. 

He slowly rubbed the tips of her fingers with his. She smiled... and hid her face in the leaves. She was adorable. Her huge almond shaped eyes, delicate pointed ears, tiny nose... and the most perfect lips he'd ever seen. With bright white, little fangs. A deep rumble rose from his chest, as he chuckled. She peeked at him, he wanted to just grab her up and snuggle her.

In his human form, she'd probably rip him a new asshole, if he did. He knew she would, and that revelation alone, just made him laugh all the harder. Not wanting to frighten her, but unable to hold it back. He turned his face into the leaves and laughed out loud. His body jerking as he laughed.

She moved her hand away from his, he stopped laughing and looked up at her. Her eyes were huge, she had covered her mouth with her hands. She was smiling, and she was so quiet. She never made a sound, even this close. He had to strain to hear her breathe. "You're so quiet."

Instantly, she froze. Behind her hands, the smile was gone. He'd gotten so comfortable with her, he'd forgotten himself and just blurted it out. Almost afraid he'd ruined the progress he'd made, he was shocked when she moved closer to him. Just a little. She looked around a little... wary like. Her ears perked, listening. She moved her hand closer to him, then edged her body a little closer. Again, she stopped to listen.

Very slowly, she raised her hand to his face. The look on her face, made his chest clench up with sympathy for her. She looked so desperate... she needed this contact so bad. The sound of another, the closeness. She craved it.

Now he knew why she'd followed Hrongar. And more than likely, thousands of others over the years. Just for the familiar sounds, the familiar feel. Her fingers lightly touched his mouth. She held them there, looking at him, as if mesmerized. Very gently, he kissed her finger pads.

She pulled them back, her eyebrows furrowed, mouth open. Looking from them, back to him, to his mouth.

"Kiss." He raised his fingers to his lips, kissing them. She knew what a kiss was. She hadn't been kissed since her Ata. She hadn't been touched at all, since. She watched as he moved his two fingers to her, she was afraid. Not of him, not for her safety... it was how this closeness made her feel. How he was making her feel. 

She looked down between them. His manhood was down now, he wasn't trying to mate with her. She allowed him to get closer, to touch her lips. She backed away just a fraction of an inch, sniffing them, sticking her little pink tongue out to taste. He smiled.

The blood had dried on his skin, making it tight and uncomfortable. Not wanting the time to end, but needing to clean up. He slowly backed away and sat up.

She backed away and crouched, unsure of what he had planned. He noticed, even though she was watching his every move, her ears were tilted. She was uncomfortable with his distraction. She was listening for any signs of danger that might be around. He was a distraction... 

That bothered him. And yet, it made him feel good at the same time.

She got closer to the tree behind her. He could also tell, that she wasn't used to being out in the open. Down on the ground. She felt vulnerable... as formidable of an opponent as she may be, she needed to remain hidden.

He crouched, and whispered to her. "Go get clean, wash up. I want you to follow me... okay?" He stood, looking in the direction of the stream. He felt the need to talk to her now, the more he did, the faster she would open up to him. He looked back in her direction, and she was gone. He hadn't even heard her move.

He instantly looked up, she was in the tree watching him. Evidently, she planned to follow him in the trees. Like she had the night before. Whatever made her feel safer. He knew this was bound to take some time. Silently, they moved to the stream. He got in, getting down onto his knees in the cold water, he splashed it all over him, washing his face, getting a drink and rinsing out his mouth. She stayed up in the tree. He could tell she'd been exposed all she cared to be for tonight. He wouldn't push it. 

He laid back in the water, rinsing his hair, letting the water run all over him. It felt so good. He'd delayed all he could. It was late, tomorrow he would come earlier. If he had no jobs, anyway. He had a surprise planned for them. 

**********

He'd said goodnight to her, as she watched him from the tree. He turned and left the forest, not looking back. He had to strain, but he could hear her. Again at a distance, crouched low, hugging the ground, she followed him. All the way to the city wall. Turning to her once more, before climbing into the underforge back entrance. He almost couldn't stand to take his eyes off from her. Taking in a deep breath, he went in. 

**********

As soon as he was no longer in sight. Crouching as low to the ground as she could, she slowly made her way to the wall. Moving up to the entrance he'd gone in, she could hear him moving around inside. Smelling all around the stones. It smelled like him, but also like the others. No longer able to hear him inside, she turned and headed back. She needed to bathe still. She knew he wanted her to get in the water with him, she wasn't ready yet.

She wasn't ready for many of the things, she knew he wanted. She would try harder tomorrow, she would do it for him...


	14. Impatience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'They were needed in the reach, his brother and himself would accompany Skjor tomorrow.' His eyes flew open, his heart pounding! He sat up, almost yelling, then remembering that everyone slept he lowered his voice, talking to himself.
> 
> "The Reach!" Then some bullshit about how it would be good experience. Standing up, he paced... 'The Reach! That... that would take two weeks at least, maybe three!' He crushed the parchment in his fist and threw it into the fire, watching as it caught flame and turned to ash.

*********

It had been so late when he'd gotten back, everyone was already asleep. Approaching his bedroom, he could see something attached to his doorknob. A roll of parchment was tied to it. Feeling his insides clench up, he had a feeling this had to do with her, with him being gone so much. He ripped it off and went inside. 

Closing the door, he stripped down and threw the damp clothing into the corner. Tilma would get it tomorrow. Walking to the bed naked, he paused to grab a bottle of mead off the nightstand and sat down. Propping the pillows behind him, turning enough to see by the candle's light, he opened the rolled up note.

Just from the script he could tell it was from Kodlak... great. His brother's well meaning concern, now starting to bleed through. 'They were needed in the reach, his brother and himself would accompany Skjor tomorrow.' His eyes flew open, his heart pounding! 

He sat up, almost yelling, then remembering that everyone slept he lowered his voice, talking to himself. "The Reach!" Then some bullshit about how it would be good experience. Standing up, he paced... 'The Reach! That... that would take two weeks at least, maybe three!' He crushed the parchment in his fist and threw it into the fire, watching as it caught flame and turned to ash.

He opened the bottle, his brow furrowed as he brought it to his lips. 

He went over it in his head while he drained the bottle. 'The last time they'd gone to the reach, it'd taken a week just to get there. Then time to do the job, then another week just to get back!'

The note had said they were leaving in the morning, first light. 'He wouldn't even get to tell her, she wouldn't know that he was coming back!' 

The tightness in his chest increasing, 'He couldn't say a fucking thing about it either! If he did, it would just prove his brother's point! He had to act like it wasn't bothering him and show them, that he wasn't letting her get in the way of his responsibilities... he wished she could talk to him! Then... then they could... Damn it!!!'

Trying to keep his voice as low as possible and failing entirely, "FUCK!" The bottle giving way under the crushing force of his fist. He flung the broken shards into the fire, completely oblivious to the blood that was dripping from his hand. Sleeping wasn't an option now. He was too pissed off, too worried about her. He knew she'd be okay, but the fact that she'd be asleep when they left. She would think he was abandoning her! All the progress they'd made, what would he come back to? 

He couldn't go to her now either, there wasn't time to do that and get back to leave. He knew it wasn't Skjor that was pushing this, it was Vilkas talking with Kodlak and getting the old man all worried! Hell, they'd only had the blood for a year, and already his brother is all concerned. He just wasn't happy. That was what it amounted to, right there! Skjor was behind him on this, but if Kodlak really wanted something, he wouldn't go against him on it. He didn't want that either, he loved Kodlak, he didn't want him to be upset. But damn it! wasn't he allowed a life? 

Just now feeling the stinging in his hand, he lifted it to look. Walking over to the wash basin, he dunked it in, washing the blood and bits of glass off that still clung to his palm. He'd be fine. Picking up another bottle, he laid back down. He had to calm down, no matter how much he didn't like it, he had to go. He would do his best to hurry the job along. That's all he could do, and hope this didn't ruin things for him and her.

After thinking about it, he planned to keep quiet about her. The whole trip, he wouldn't speak about it unless asked. He wasn't going to give Vilkas the satisfaction. He was going to show them that he could handle this and be responsible, that way Kodlak would see that he had nothing to worry over. Then, his brother would have to shut up about it. He could only hope she would still be receptive to him, once he returned.

Having only a few hours till dawn, he downed the last bottle and closed his eyes.

Getting a few hours of broken sleep, he felt energized regardless. He'd woken to Skjor pounding on his door, he got up and packed and met them upstairs for something to eat before they left. He could already see the pride in Skjor's eyes, over how well he was handling it. That gave him even more strength to be a man about it, what Skjor thought held a lot of weight in his eyes. Going over the plans and gathering some food to stash in their packs, they headed out.

************

She slept late. Staying up at night with the older man and now the young one, she was getting used to staying up at night and sleeping in the day. Before, it had been the other way around. While her vision was good enough to be out at night, she preferred the day. There were too many foul things that preferred the darkness. The only reason she had stayed alive this long, was by being smart. She knew she wasn't at the top of the food chain. Not by a longshot.

She wanted to be with him, but it worried her that he preferred the night. His wolf form craved the night, that form relied on it. He was safer at night, but her coming out to see him, put her at risk. That had been proven with the older man and the wolves. Even though he had hunted and camped out for years, and even though it could've happened at anytime, she had felt responsible. 

That particular night, he'd gotten the meat and was out, simply because of her. He'd wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to talk to her. Now, this young man, wanted the same thing. She wanted what they wanted, but she wanted all of their safety as well.

After getting back last night, she'd gone to the stream to bathe and then laid in her furs, thinking about him. Thinking about what she needed to do, if she was to ever have a life, like she'd had before her Ata and her mother were taken from her. One where she could live amongst them, one where she could speak and not feel fear... one where she could be with him.

Finally getting up, she retied her braids and wrapped herself in warmer coverings. The nights were getting colder, she could see her breath. She waited for him in her tree, the lowest branch. This was where he would come. It was almost dark...

She waited and waited... smelling the air, expecting his scent and finding nothing each time. Straining to hear any noise that sounded like him and finding only the normal forest sounds. She was getting impatient. She wasn't used to sitting still, normally she was gathering and preparing skins and furs. She couldn't do a lot of the things she did during the day, at night. 

She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up, going against her routine. She wanted to see him so badly, but she was letting things go, things that her survival depended on. Last seed was coming to it's end, the leaves were swiftly changing, Morilatta was already upon her. 

That gave her only one more month to prepare before the arrival of Angalayond. She had never been so poorly stocked as she was now. Nevertheless, she had to know why he hadn't come.

Climbing back into her home, she undid the ties holding her bow and slung it on her back. She could stay put no longer. She would move through the trees, in the direction he normally came from.

Moving through the trees, stopping every few minutes to smell for him and still nothing. It was getting late, she had waited in her tree for hours until she could wait no longer. She hadn't felt the things she was feeling now, ever. She didn't understand it, feeling this way over him. She was hurting and angry, yet still wanting to see him. She was confused. But determined.

At the edge of the forest, she looked at the wall that held them all in. The pasture leading up to it, nothing but the normal wildlife it normally held. She stood in a tall pine, watching the opening in the stone wall, where he went to each night when he left her. Nothing moved... dawn was approaching, he wasn't coming, he'd never come to her this late.

Turning around, she spared one last glance back at the opening before moving back into the forest. Her chest hurt, tears threatened to come, she needed to think. 

She would sleep and rise earlier. Maybe, she would have to go to him... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morilatta - Ayleid for Autumn. Angalayond - Ayleid for winter. Last Seed is the name for August in Skyrim/Nordic.


	15. Throwing Caution To The Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was quite amazed that she'd made it this long. Twelve long years of searching and waiting, finally coming to a close. He remembered taking down the parents, they knew there was a child, their belongings had shown evidence of one. He and his superior had waited and watched for three days, figuring thirst or hunger would drive it out of hiding. Then the prize would be theirs.

************

He was thankful they'd taken horses, this was much better than sitting on a hard bench all day. Trying to stretch out the kinks at each village. They could keep a faster pace as well, only making camp to rest the horses and themselves for a few hours at a time. They'd get to Markarth and pay for the stables to give their horses proper food and rest, while they got some more details on the person that had been taken. He hated the Reach, weather was decent, but the Forsworn made traveling here treacherous.

Skjor watched him, he could tell he was unhappy, just by the look on his face. His jaw set, stern look in his eyes, lips pressed into a line. That was more his brothers look, not his. It was rare for Farkas to look unhappy, unless he was fighting someone. That was the only time he really looked menacing. Boy had size to him, that coupled with his long black hair, and the full beard, gave him a much older look than his years. He could also tell he was making every effort to stay focused, so they could get this done. 

If he wasn't in love with her yet, he was getting damn close. He could tell when someone had it bad, it'd only happened to him once. While he missed the feeling, he didn't miss the pain he'd felt when she'd died. Now, with the beast blood, he'd have to find someone like him. Someone that wanted this life, he would know when it happened. 

Right now, these youngins were his responsibility. He would try to make the job go as fast as possible, so that Farkas could get back to her.

**********

It had taken her two more nights of waiting at the edge of the forest for him, before getting irritated enough to make this decision. She didn't understand why he had been so persistent in the beginning and now, well... now, he just wasn't coming at all. And she hadn't seen the older man either. They both had either, left or didn't want to see her? She didn't think that was the case, the older man had taken so much time and had gone to such trouble to see her and be around her. Why all of a sudden?

Over the last two days she had gotten almost back to her old routine. She was waking up earlier and going to sleep earlier. This way she could be awake in the day to hunt and gather, but be awake part of the early evening, just in case he decided to come.

Now, she was tired of waiting, she had to know. Tonight she would go to the wall that surrounded his home. She waited at the edge of the forest until it was dusk and then set off. Her bow on her back, she crouched low to the ground, pausing to listen every few minutes.

************

He'd gotten down from his horse to watch her this time. Making sure he was upwind of her, he stood behind a stone pillar, she couldn't smell or see him. Mesmerized, he watched as she hugged the ground, moving with agonizing slowness towards the stone wall of Whiterun. He knew exactly where she was heading too, he'd watched her following the lycan... the Companion, to their secret entrance. In fact, that was when he'd first spotted her. They'd been so engrossed in each other, they hadn't even noticed him.

The Companion had set out, several days ago. He'd seen them leave, watched them. He knew she was looking for him. She was willing to risk her exposure, to see him. How interesting.

She crept to the opening, putting her head to the stone to smell around it. Even acting like she wanted to go inside and then deciding against it. He knew as wild as she was, she would never feel comfortable in a closed in space. If she felt trapped, she would become aggressive, she would then become a danger to anyone around her.

He smiled, bright white teeth gleaming from under his hood. He was so delighted, he had to stifle the urge to laugh out loud. He didn't want to give himself up and ruin this wonderful opportunity.

He hadn't even been here looking for her this time, he was here on reconnaissance. He'd gotten curious when he saw the two lycans leaving the entrance just so many nights earlier, and had stayed hidden behind this very pillar then, watching. When he saw the Nords returning naked, in human form, he knew exactly who they were. He'd seen them before. The older one had come back earlier than the young Nord, he was getting attached to her.

Since then, he'd stayed close by... it had been well worth the wait. 

He'd paid the bandits at the Nordic ruin just northwest of the city, to house him for the duration of his stay. They had been all too happy to take his coin and keep his presence a secret. He'd always been able to find some sellout, willing to lend him a hand for a little coin. Over the years he'd even made some faithful followers. There had been no reports, none. In fact, they had almost given up hope, until now. 

He was quite amazed that she'd made it this long. Twelve long years of searching and waiting, finally coming to a close. He remembered taking down the parents, they knew there was a child, their belongings had shown evidence of one. He and his superior had waited and watched for three days, figuring thirst or hunger would drive it out of hiding. Then the prize would be theirs.

The mother was too old to be of any use, for what Nelanare wanted. She had been beautiful enough, they could've sold her for someone's personal pleasure... a whore. But she was a fighter, and that simply would not do. It rendered her useless, not even good to use or sell as a servant.

The child however, could be molded... into whatever they wanted. She was worth a fortune, even now... especially now. He could only imagine her beauty up close. Just watching her lithe little body, she would be so, so sweet. Too bad she had to remain pure, Nelanare's orders. She was worth much more unspoiled. 

There were always other ways of getting what he wanted though, and their employer usually allowed them a taste of some sorts. He couldn't wait. 

He also had a feeling, things hadn't progressed to the point of intimacy between her and the Nord, not yet. They had to take her before that happened. They could check her once they had her secured, she had to stay intact. It would only take a matter of days for his superior to arrive, he would keep watch until then. 

Chuckling silently, this would be all too easy. Now, he knew what mattered to her. 

That would be the leverage they needed, to make her do what they wanted.

She finally turned away and headed back towards the forest, he watched her, her body posture showing all the signs of disappointment. He waited until she was in the cover of the pines, before turning to mount his horse. 

The cry of a wolf pierced the night. The hair on him standing up at the sound. It was coming from her... it was her, calling to him... calling to the lycan. The most forlorn sound he thought he'd ever heard, now other wolves were chiming in, calling with her. 

Mounting his horse, he rode back to the ruins. He would have one of those idiots wrangle up a courier tomorrow. He had to send word immediately.

He was going to need assistance.

*************

Kodlak sat on the back porch of Jorvaskr, alone, drinking his mead. Everyone else was either on a job or inside. It was a beautiful night, his feet propped up on the chair opposite him. He'd been unable to get Farkas and this situation out of his head. He felt bad for sending him on the job, but he was a Companion, he needed to understand he still had responsibilities. He was afraid the feral one he was getting involved with, would only cause him pain in the end. 

If she was wild to this extent, there may not be any coming back. What kind of a life, could the boy possibly have with her, other than living like a complete animal. He knew, as much as Farkas might think she was what he wanted, he would grow tired of not being able to communicate with her. He knew Farkas preferred his wolf form, he understood his struggles. It was a relief to get away from the pressures of this life, but he was human, not an animal. And after awhile, he would long for civility, stability. No matter how much he loved her.

The lonely howl of a wolf broke through his thoughts, he listened as it cried and cried... others now joining it. 

Such a mournful sound... he would miss the hunt.


	16. She's Alive...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The courier picked up the letter, turning it over, he read the name and place it was to go to. He thought he would be sick...
> 
> A... a temple? The one he was sending this to, was at a temple? Right under their noses... and no one knew.

***********

The night had gone as peaceful as possible. If what you'd call peaceful, was a bunch of drunken louts raising oblivion till all hours. Expecting anything different, would've been foolish on his part... look where he was. He'd risen early, making his tea, he set the steaming kettle on the table and prepared to write.

Setting the quill to parchment,

 _It is with the utmost urgency, that I write to you._

_She is alive!  I have been watching her.  She seems to be residing in the forest, just bordering the city of Whiterun._

_She is completely wild..._

_I will give more details, when you arrive.  As I will be in need of your assistance, to capture her._

_I know I do not need to explain the importance, I believe her to be pure... for now.  We must act with haste!_

_I am staying at the Nordic Ruins just Northwest of the city.  I have paid the bandits there to house me._

_They will know to expect you._

************ 

 

No sooner than he'd finished, pounding began at his door. Folding the letter, he stood and went to the door, opening it. Standing before him, was one of the female bandits. Her hand wrapped firmly around the slender arm, of a young male Nord. A courier.

Right on time.

Standing aside, he waved his hand for her to enter with the young man. She pushed him into the seat opposite the desk, then left, closing the door behind her. She would wait outside, until he was done.

Completely ignoring the Nord, he sat back down and poured his tea. Then taking a candle from the table, he held it over the fold, letting the wax drip onto the parchment.

The courier watched, as he opened a satchel. Removing an ornate stamp, he pushed it into the wax... sealing the letter. As soon as he saw the symbol, his heart froze in his chest!

Bringing it up to his lips he blew on the seal, allowing it to dry fully, before pushing the letter forward, across the table to the courier. He folded his hands on the table and looked at him from under his hood.

The courier picked up the letter, turning it over, he read the name and place it was to go to. He thought he would be sick...

A... a temple? The one he was sending this to, was at a temple? Right under their noses and no one knew!

He held the letter and waited for instructions.

"You see the name and place on the letter, do you not?" The courier nodded, his eyes wide, he swallowed. The boy's nervousness, only adding to his enjoyment.

All he could see under the man's hood, was his mouth and chin. Or should he say Mer... from the golden tinge on the skin, the almost feminine looking mouth... the perfectly enunciated language, haughty tone in the voice. It was obvious, even if he hadn't seen the stamp, just from hearing him talk... this was no human.

"The letter will be delivered, under escort... it is very important and must be delivered with the utmost haste! Do you understand what I've just said..." The boy nodded, sweat, now shining on his pale skin.

"Once you have delivered it, you will be paid and free to go about your business..."

He leaned across the table, into the boys face. "However... if it does not reach it's destination, or you breathe a word of this to anyone..."

He was smiling, his teeth showing. He was leaning so close, that he could now see the bright green of his eyes. The smile, wasn't reaching them. His voice, low and menacing. "I will personally cut out your waggling tongue! And then you and I, will have some private time... am I clear!"

Nodding, clutching the letter in his hands, he felt like he was going to piss himself. He'd never been this close to one of them... _if_ he survived, he would never forget it. He was starting to think, a change of jobs was in order.

He backed away from him and stood. Going to the door, he opened it and motioned for her to take him. Evidently knowing she would pull him out of the chair, the boy stood on his own accord and followed her out.

He stood in the doorway and watched them. As soon as they were down the steps, he motioned for one of the men to come in. One of the men whose trust he'd gained, they'd spent a lot of time together. The ones that were the most desperate, were so easily manipulated. Pulling the Nord close, he put his face right into his ear. "See that it is delivered... quickly! Then kill him."

The Nord smiled, nodding his head in silence. Handing him a bag of coins, "Do this for me, do what I want... and you will earn your place at my side. You will want for nothing... ever again."

Shivering, as the Mer breathed the words into his ear, he would do whatever he wanted. He knew who the Mer belonged to. He also knew that it was better to be at his right hand, than in his path.

Releasing the Nord, he watched as he descended the stairs. They needed to get this done before the Companion returned. If he was there, it would be harder to take possession of her. They would have to fight him as well. No, they had to do this now! One of his faithful had gotten word where the Companions had gone. His superior would definitely be here before they got back from Markarth... he was sure of it.


	17. What's The Rush?..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skjor watched them, Vilkas needed to back off. Farkas had done well, the whole trip. Even with being worried and heartsick, he was proud of him. He would definitely be singing his praises to Kodlak, when they got back.
> 
> He didn't need anymore pressure. In fact, he was afraid that if the pressure became too great, it would just push him farther and farther away.

*************

The job was done. Record time. Just three days there, one day to find the victim and that was that. Easy... 

Now, he wanted to leave, he wanted to get back. All he could think about was her. His chest had been a knotted up mess the whole time they'd been gone. His brother hadn't been any help either. Watching him every second, like he was just waiting for him to screw up, to say something.

Sitting in the Silver Blood Inn, bellied up to the bar. All three of them. He stared down into his tankard.

He hated Markarth! You could feel the tension in the air. There was constant trouble, you couldn't trust anyone! So much underhanded bullshit going on all the time. Stone fucking beds! No windows... no light, no air. No wonder everyone was in a shit mood! 

In Jorvaskr... in fact, any home in Whiterun. He could see the sky, though the smoke slats in the ceilings... knowing that he had that freedom... that space. 

He just wanted to get back home, where he knew who his friends were, where he could rest easy. 

He let out a big sigh. Vilkas sat next to him, now looking in his direction.

"Stop your grousing! We'll be home in a few days."

Skjor watched them, Vilkas needed to back off! Farkas had done well, the whole trip. Even with being worried and heartsick, he was proud of him. He would definitely be singing his praises to Kodlak, when they got back. He didn't need anymore pressure. In fact, he was afraid that if the pressure became too great, it would just push him farther and farther away. Farkas couldn't handle the personal stress. 

He was amazing in battle, a definite force to be reckoned with. He'd want him at his side, at his back, any day! That, he knew with time and age, would just get better and better. But when it came to the personal stuff, he preferred the simple life. Raw emotion, freedom, nature... simplicity. He thrived in that environment, he needed it.

For them to be twins... Gods, they were nothing alike... nothing. Other than their looks and ferocity during battle, that was it. Two opposite sides of the coin... night and day. Oil and water. 

He wanted both of them to thrive, but he wanted them to both become the men, that they were meant to be. That didn't mean, that they needed to be alike! He didn't want one to be tamped out, simply for being the different one. And he was afraid, that if that happened... it would end up being Farkas. 

He was the most easy going, the more soft-hearted, out of the two. He would cave, just to keep the peace... to save his relationship with his brother. He didn't want that, he was hoping that his feelings for the Bosmer, would make him take a stand. Thus far, he'd seen that happening in him. And he'd have his back.

Just watching the expression on Farkas' face, he knew, he wasn't going to take too much more. He needed to speak to Vilkas, alone.

Before he could even get out of his seat, a red head, wearing next to nothing, slid in between him and Farkas. Even with all the warning bells going off in his head, he couldn't help but look her up and down. She was a beauty to be sure! Ample set up top, literally busting out of the little bit of dress she had on. Nice bottom too. Not too bony, not too big... just right. Just enough to hold onto... just enough to sink his teeth into.

Problem was, she wasn't staring at him, she was staring at Farkas. And Farkas, was staring into his mead. 

He didn't even know she was there... until she touched him.

As soon as she touched him, he tensed up. She fondled his hair, cooing in his ear. Shit, she was licking her lips like she'd just found a midnight snack. She had to be drunk, she had to be! Or, she was just a whore and didn't care. Looking at her state of partial dress... more than likely, the latter. Maybe both.

Skjor's attention, now back on Farkas. He watched him change... the tension, rolling off of him in waves. His jaw was set. He rolled his eyes and let out a breath. A look of complete disgust, washed over his face. 

What happened next, he swore, he would never forget as long as he lived. Farkas took her hand and brushed it off his shoulder, like he was wiping off a bug. Without even looking at her. "Not interested! Move on!" 

Skjor thought he would shit! Her face crunched up, she turned and walked away. Muttering under her breath, "Asshole!"

He couldn't believe it! Usually Farkas was a blushing mess. Which made the ladies, go even more insane over him. Hell, he didn't know how many times, he'd gotten laid, with just their castoffs. With only two of them, and usually a group of women. There were always more than they could handle. He'd latch onto one of them, after all, he wasn't chopped liver! He was still in his prime, had a lot of fight left in him... the ladies didn't mind an older warrior. Age meant experience... stamina.

But tonight... with the surly mood they were both in, it was like everyone knew to stay away. Except the one that he just blew off, anyway. He definitely had it bad. He'd found the one. Skjor was happy and afraid for him. This was a complicated situation at best.

He pushed the tankard away, standing up. "I'm going to the room!" Stalking off.

Again. before he could say anything, Vilkas was up and moving in the same direction. Great! 'Oh shit' was all he could think. Vilkas tended to be an antagonist, sometimes to the extreme. Especially, when it came to his brother.

Usually Farkas would just take it, let it roll off. Problem was, the way he was feeling right now, the mood he was in... Vilkas was getting ready to poke a bear. A big, angry bear.

Farkas could take a lot before getting angry, before he was moved to violence. But once he got there, you'd better get the hell out of his way. And hope you're not the one he's pissed off at. Vilkas was too caught up in his own agenda and too young to realize what he was doing. Nor was he thinking about the aftermath of what his actions would bring.

He heard Farkas shut the door, then Vilkas open it and shut it again. He ran. 

He'd heard his brother behind him, he knew what was coming. He just couldn't let it go! He never could... just had to have his say, be the one in the lead. He took a deep breath, staring at the wall... trying to reign it in. As soon as he shut the door, "What do you want, brother..."

Vilkas came right up beside him, demanding to be in his view. "What is wrong with you! We could've had a good time tonight, but no!" 

He turned to him, his eyes narrowing. He couldn't believe it, all this... over a whore! Like he could even tolerate another woman touching him now! Never! He only wanted her. She was the one. 

Already, he was sweating, feeling like he couldn't get enough air. The room was too small. 

He raised his hand, pointing toward the door. "Is that what this is all about! That tramp!" He got closer, leaning down into his brother's face. "She's still out there... go get her!"

Skjor opened the door, closing it behind him. Hopefully, he was on time. He intended to stop this now. Before anyone got hurt. Namely Vilkas... then there would be trouble... not just with the old man, but between the twins as well. Hard feelings that nobody needed right now. 

"Boys... now, come on." He raised his hands, trying to get them to back off each other.

They didn't even acknowledge his presence. They were nose to nose. He stepped up beside them, ready to intervene.

Vilkas stared into his eyes, he wouldn't back down. He wished he would, because he wasn't going to. He was in the right! He was done being pushed around!

Vilkas began spitting his words out and ended, yelling them! "It's not just about her! It's about that... that, _animal_ you'd rather be with, than a fucking human being!" 

That was it! That's all it took... Skjor couldn't move fast enough... all he could do was watch. Farkas' eyes turned yellow, his face twisted in absolute rage! Baring his teeth, spit flew as he yelled in Vilkas' face! Skjor could see the panic in the smaller twin's eyes. But it was too late. 

Vilkas literally, couldn't get away from him fast enough! Farkas hooked his hands, into the arm openings of his armor and lifted him off the ground! Moving with him toward the wall, he slammed his brother into the stone bricks! Dust flew and settled on the floor, Farkas stood there, his face pressed into his brother's. He was panting... growling... fighting to reign it in! He knew better than to transform here. He was yelling, his deep voice, booming throughout the small room. Skjor knew everyone out in the bar, _had_ to hear what was going on. They would have to leave now. 

"Don't you _EVER_ speak about her like that again! She's not an animal... I love her! She's mine! Do ya hear... mine!" 

Lowering his voice, he sounded so menacing, it literally raised the hairs on Skjor's body. "And I will kill _anyone_ who even thinks about hurting her! Do you understand!" 

He couldn't imagine, what Vilkas was feeling right then. It didn't even sound like Farkas, he'd never sounded like that... not toward someone he cared about. But, his brother was speaking in a threatening way, about his would be mate. And he would defend her to the death.

He shook Vilkas once, holding him to the wall. Then backing off, he dropped him to his feet. He turned and walked out. Leaving Skjor standing there, with a shocked and silent Vilkas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love a faithful man! Farkas is awesome! {I love Vilkas too... don't worry, brothers fight.}


	18. The Sooner The Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't go back in there Skjor, I just can't." If he did, he'd lose it. He had to be out in the open, where he could breathe.
> 
> "We're gonna leave. None of us can sleep anyway. Vilkas is gathering our gear, I'll help him with it and meet you at the stables."
> 
> Skjor smiled and gave his shoulder a playful push. Farkas cracked a grin and turned, heading for the stables. He felt better, they all needed to get the hell out of this city. They'd feel better on the road, then Farkas could see his Bosmer.
> 
> The sooner the better.

************

Running out into the street, the cool night air and open sky, instantly calmed him. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. Looking up at the sky, into the full moon. He couldn't transform here and he couldn't leave... not without them. If he did that, it would just prove to his brother and to Kodlak, that he couldn't handle things. That he couldn't handle her being in his life. He wasn't about to let that happen.

He watched as the guards passed by, doing their rounds. Finally, the door opened behind him. Skjor's hand grasped his shoulder, he stayed as he was, watching as he came up beside him. He let out a deep breath. Not even waiting to see if Vilkas was there or not. Staring out at the night sky, "I'm sorry, Skjor... I don't ever want to disappoint you. But I don't take back anything I said in there. It holds true..."

"I know it does, Farkas. I don't expect you to take it back and I'm not disappointed. I'm glad you feel passionate enough about her, to speak your mind." 

It wasn't just that, he was proud that he'd stayed true to her. That held a lot of weight in his eyes, especially for someone as young as Farkas, with women throwing themselves at him constantly. Being out on the road, away from home... temptation was everywhere. 

Honesty and integrity... the qualities of good man. A true man. 

"Your brother will understand one day..." He hated to see them fight, like this. But Farkas had to make his point. Vilkas loved his brother, but he had to understand that Farkas couldn't be expected to follow him in everything. He had to be his own man, with his own feelings. He knew they would work it out.

Farkas turned to face him. He was alone... Vilkas had evidently stayed inside, giving them time to talk. Just looking at the older warrior's face, the emotion on it... he knew he spoke from experience.

"One day he will feel for someone, the way that you do for her. Then, he will know."

"I can't go back in there Skjor, I just can't." If he did, he'd lose it. He had to be out in the open, where he could breathe.

"We're gonna leave. None of us can sleep anyway. Vilkas is gathering our gear, I'll help him with it and meet you at the stables." 

Skjor smiled and gave his shoulder a playful push. Farkas cracked a grin and turned, heading for the stables. He felt better, they all needed to get the hell out of this city. They'd feel better on the road, then Farkas could see his Bosmer. 

The sooner the better.

*************

It took three days journey, just to get to the temple. Only to find out the one they were looking for, had left. Maramal telling them, rather disdainfully, that it uhh... it hadn't worked out. The only thing he knew, was that the Mer they sought, had mentioned something about Ivarstead, and left earlier that morning on horseback.

Hauling the courier through the Riften gates by the arm. He was about in a panic, they had to catch up to him! He didn't want his Master to be angry with him. Climbing onto their horses, riding away from the city... his female counterpart, eyeing him suspiciously. "What's the blasted rush? We could've stayed the night at least!" 

He ignored her, they needed to hurry. They didn't have time to mess around, he wasn't going to be patient... he didn't know what would happen, if they didn't get back before the Companion. But he didn't think it would be good.

He had to prove, that he was worth keeping! He had a feeling, that once their usefulness had run out the rest would be killed. He didn't want to be included in that number.

"Hey!" She yelled as he rode up ahead. The courier rode on her horse, his skinny arms clenched around her waist, holding on for dear life. Gouging her heels into the horse, to spur it on, she rode up next to him. 

"I'm talkin to you! What in Talos' name is the..." 

He cut her off, stopping his horse in the middle of the road. He turned to her, blue eyes glaring at her, teeth clenched. "If we don't get this delivered on time... lets just say, I don't want to have to answer for it. Got it!" 

Spitting on the ground in front of his horse. "We're bein paid to keep quiet about him! That's it, Ranulf! We're doin that just fine!" 

He turned his horse back in the direction they needed and rode on. He'd had enough of her mouth, if she didn't shut up... he would shut her up. He swore he'd be layin in the fuckin ground, before he'd answer to some twat like her!

He could hear her behind him, sputtering in anger. Hearing her horse as it got closer, without moving his arm, he slowly and silently released the strap on his sword.

Again, she moved up along side him, glaring at him. He eyed the courier, his head was tucked into her back, he was shaking. He rolled his eyes. He was going to have to do this quick, without hurting him. Then, he could have her horse.

She just didn't know when to shut up, he could see her readyin her mouth to start in again. 

"Has he got to you or somethin!" 

Instantly he stiffened, pressing his lips into a thin line. She just kept on. "He has! Hasn't he!... Ranulf! Answer me... Godsdamned Elf! He's gotten to you! Hasn't he!" She was practically screaming now, he had to shut her up! "You fuckin traitor!" 

He could hear her, grabbing for her sword. She was too late... his was already out. He swung his arm backwards with all his strength. For just a split second, he heard the sharp metallic sound of steel, sliding across steel, followed by the gush of liquid. The smell of hot copper, filled the air around them. The horse she sat on, didn't even make a sound... 

Silence... Wonderful, fucking silence...

He turned his head to look, stopping his horse. Her horse stopping with his. The courier was crying, his arms locked around her body, her arms and legs still giving a slight jerk here and there. His eyes clenched shut. Blood splattered all over him. 

Letting out a sigh, he grabbed the boy's arms and loosened their hold from her corpse. Lifting him with one arm, he brought him over to his horse. As soon as his little ass hit the back of the horse, he wrapped himself around Ranulf.

Her body slumping over, raising his foot, he nudged her with the toe of his boot, fully knocking her off from the horse. As soon as the body hit the road, the courier let out a cry, pushing his head into Ranulf's back. Letting out another sigh, he grabbed her horse by the reigns and rode on.

A few hours later, he realized they would have to stop. He didn't want to, he didn't even know if the Elf was still at Ivarstead or not. He would have made it there no problem, if he'd started off in the morn. 

But if they rode all night, they'd be too exhausted to carry on. Best to get it over with tonight. They'd rest up and leave just before dawn. He rode into the woods a ways. He wanted to be far enough from the road, that they weren't easily seen. They'd rode far enough, not to be connected to her body, that was bound to be seen, if an animal didn't get to her first. The latter was more likely though.

Pulling the boy off the horse, he left him in a heap on the ground. He was in shock. Tethering the horses to a tree, he spread out his bedroll and gathered wood, getting a fire started. Finally, he rummaged through his pack, pulling out a tunic and leggings. They'd be big on him, but better than the blood soaked clothes he wore. They couldn't ride into town, with him looking like that. 

Moving him over onto the furs, he just sat there, staring off into space, as Ranulf got him out of his blood soaked clothes. Pouring water from a skin onto some soft leather, he got him cleaned up. He'd never had to dress anybody... had plenty of practice gettin the clothes off from others. But never gettin em back on. It was a lot of fuckin work, it was. But he had to keep him alive, he had to look legit. 

It wasn't uncommon for couriers to be seen with escorts, especially if they carried important things. Which was common too.

Taking off his armor, he laid down and pulled the boy into the bedroll with him. Knowing that he had to be kept warm. Instantly, the boy snuggled into him, his head tucked under his chin. After a few minutes, the smaller body jerked against him. Tears ran against his throat, Ranulf looked into the fire and tightened his hold around the young Nord.

A lot of work, for someone he'd end up just killing anyway. Poor kid...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't normally name Bandits... but, I plan on using this guy. So...


	19. What Can I Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest tightened in panic, he looked down at the kid's face. His eyes were wide, his face was clean... probably cause all his mess, was wiped onto Ranulf's shirt front. Knowing he should've shut him up, he just listened.
> 
> "They're using you... don't you see. They don't care about us! We're nothing but pawns to them. Do you want to end up being his lap dog!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please remember, this is about five years prior to Dovakiin entrance.** I don't have five years worth of material, so we will be speeding thru that somewhat, when the time comes.**
> 
> Just giving everyone a little bit of warning here. Strong suggestive material in this chapter. Suggestive... not explicit. I didn't put in the tags, simply because the story doesn't revolve around this and I didn't want to throw anyone off. So, don't want anyone to get turned off by it, but I see it as a realistic situation. So I'm going with it. These two characters are essential, while they don't play a huge role through the entirety of the story, it is important.

*************

They lay there, the fire warming them. The boys tears had finally stopped, thank the Gods! He didn't know how much more of that he could've taken. He was laying so still, he figured he must've gone to sleep. Letting out a deep breath, he didn't want to kill the kid. He didn't have any personal reason to. He wasn't one of those assholes that just killed anyone, simply for the sheer hell of it. He did what he did to survive.

Life was rough damn it! The strong survived... the weak didn't. That's just the way it was. The long and the short of it.

He stared into the fire, he couldn't feel for this kid! Just the fact that he had to keep him alive until the job was done, was fucking with him. This was _not_ the time for his conscious to get in the way. He _had_ to do this, he had to!

If he didn't, it would definitely mean _his_ life. And _that_ was not an option! He would kill anyone... _anyone!_ to stay alive.

The boy nuzzling against him, broke into his thoughts. He tried to contain the shock that went through him. Quietly, he whispered against his throat. "What... what will you do, tomorrow? After we get the message to you know who?"

Great! Now he had to talk to him about it! He could feel the kids eyelashes, fluttering against him as he blinked. He thought about what he should say, keeping his voice low. "Don't fret over it... you'll get paid and go on your way. Just like he told you." 

His stomach turned... he was going soft. That's what was happening. This was no time for that either!

He could feel the boy's chest hitching... he was amping up to cry again. He let out a sigh, rubbing his hand awkwardly over the boy's back, trying to calm him. He wasn't any good with this... shit!

Tears were hitting his throat again, "But... but, you... you killed herrr..." the kid's voice was all shaky, as he let out a quiet sob.

By the fucking Gods! Enough! He fisted the boy's hair and pulled his head back away from him! He wanted to see his face, make sure he understood what he was saying... make sure it was getting through!

The boy's red, bleary eyes looked into his. His mouth was pulled into a grimace. Snot running down over his lips. A wet mess. 

He fought to keep his voice down, and calm. "You listen to me and you listen good! That bitch woulda knifed us both! Without a seconds thought! Got it! She wasn't a fuckin loss!" 

That was true, she couldn't be trusted. None of them, that he ran with could. An he was no better, look what he was doin...

Regardless of what he'd just said, the reality of the situation was showing in the kid's eyes. He let loose of the hold he had on his hair. Quietly, he settled back in against him. 

"You need to toughen up a little... I'm surprised you've made it this long! You shoulda been a farmer or somethin maybe... huh?"

He knew a lot of boys were tryin to help out their families. Father's left and didn't come back, or died. Either that, or he was tryin to escape a bad home life. At least he was doin somthin honest. He himself, he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort early on. No father at home, mom was whorin to make ends meet. They'd been livin in the sewers in Riften. He hated that fuckin place!

One night his mother met the blade of some asshole, that didn't feel like paying for what she'd given to him. He came back to the little hole in the wall they called home, after runnin all night with a member of the guild and found her. The prick had taken everything they'd had and left her there, layin on the dirty ground. He left, right then. And had never been back.

Another reason he'd felt the need to run out the gates, when they left earlier.

Absent mindedly, he continued to rub his back. He was startin to feel like shit. When he had to kill someone, he wanted to just do it. Get it over with, instead of draggin things out, lying about it. Now who was the one, needed to toughen up?

"You don't have to kill me..." The kid whispered against his throat. His hand stopped against his back. He wanted him to shut up, he had to shut up!

"You could let me go... I won't tell anyone. I won't even go back to Whiterun. I... I'll find something else to do... you'll never see me again. I promise!" He was pleading.

"You need to be quiet and go to sleep! I'm done talkin about this!" He stared into the fire, he couldn't handle him beggin, he couldn't afford to cave on this!

He could tell he was desperate, he just kept on. Now he was grabbing the front of his tunic, trying to get Ranulf to look down at him. "Do you think they'll let you go, when all this is done! They'll kill you, just like you're going to kill me!"

His chest tightened up in panic, he looked down at the kid's face. His eyes were wide, and his face was clean... probably cause all his mess, was wiped onto Ranulf's shirt front.

Knowing he should've shut him up, he just listened. "They're using you... don't you see? They don't care about us! We're nothing but pawns to them. Do you want to end up being his lap dog!"

That was it! He'd heard enough! His hand went up to the boy's hair, getting a good handful! "You shut up... shut the fuck up!" Shaking the head he held, the boy's eyes watering, he squealed out! "You know I'm right... _You know!..."_

All he could do was look at him, he was right, and he knew it. The kid reached up to his head, grabbing onto his long blond hair and pulled his face down to his! Instantly tensing up, he pushed him away! "What! What'r you doin!"

He'd shocked the shit out of him, his mind hadn't even gone there. Not that it couldn't go there... but. "How old are you! Do you know how old I am? For Talos' sake..." Just by the look of him, he was just old enough to start shavin. Barely a man. He himself was into his early thirties. The kid was just desperate, that's what it was.

He didn't answer him, he just went on... pleading. "You care! I know you do, you don't want to do this... Please I'll do anything... anything!" Tears were running down his cheeks again. The boy pushed his mouth into Ranulf's throat. He pulled his head back, giving him a look of warning. "You keep that up and you're gonna open up a whole bunch of somethin you can't handle..."

The boy's hands wound into his hair, "Please... please, help me..."

Closing his eyes... he lowered his mouth to his. He would think about it later... after.

***********

The boy... Jorn. Looked absolutely ridiculous in his armor. His helmet sliding down to cover his blue eyes. His dark blonde hair, cropped so short he could no longer see it. He just kept pushing it up so he could see... Gods! Sitting upon her horse, he showed him the map again. An abandoned mine, that he and the others he was with near Whiterun had stayed just a month or so earlier. He knew it was empty, they'd passed it on the way to Riften. Just an hour or so away.

He'd lectured him for the last hour, he wanted him to get there quick! "It's stocked, there's a fresh water spring inside. Stay there two weeks. If I make it, I'll be back for you! You hear? Bar the door and stay quiet!" 

Jorn nodded to him, his chin and bottom lip quivering, "None of that now!" He gave his leg a squeeze and smacked the horse on the ass end, watching as he rode off. The boy just kept looking back at him, until he was out of site. 

He hadn't had the heart to do it. Hell, the kid needed someone takin care of him. He wouldn't make it on his own. 

Jorn even tried to talk _him_ into leaving with him. Though it sounded mighty tempting, he was afraid to do that. Then they'd be on the run, always lookin over their shoulders. No kind of life. Since that damned treaty had been signed, the Thalmor had free reign it seemed, to do whatever they wanted, with the Empire's approval. That made him wonder why these ones were disguised. He didn't know what they were up to yet, wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

He promised the boy, he'd change... and he'd come back for him. They'd do something else, live a normal life. Now all he had to do, was stay alive himself. 

He'd shaved and braided his hair, keeping just his daily's on. He knew, he didn't look the part. Jagged scars down one whole side of his face, tattoos on the other. Ears pierced. He let out a sigh and climbed on his horse. It was only a few hours ride to Ivarstead. Hopefully the damned Elf was still there. He'd make up a story to the other, then he'd try to get gone before it all broke loose. 

He wasn't feelin good about this. The other one, the one he'd been takin orders from, scared the piss out of him... and he wasn't no sissy. That Elf was downright evil. And the one he was bein sent to fetch, was _his_ superior. All he could think, was what in oblivion was _he_ gonna be like? How could it get any worse? 

Walking into the Vilemyr Inn, it didn't take but a second and he knew, as soon as he saw him. There wasn't any question about it. He took in a silent breath and headed over to the Mer. Dressed in mage's robes, just like the other one, his face was hidden under a hood. He sat at a table, all by himself... writing a letter. The others in the Inn eyed the Mer warily, and he could feel the tension in the air.

Standing next to him, Ranulf cleared his throat. The Mer stopped writing and moved his head, just enough to glance at him without showing his entire face. "I believe this is for you." He showed him the name written on the letter... no doubt an alias. The Mer nodded his head and rose. Ranulf stood back, giving him room to move. This one was even taller than the other, Gods! He towered over him, and he was a good six three or better. 

The Mer hadn't even spoken yet, he just motioned for him to follow. He swallowed, fighting to keep calm and walked behind him into the room he'd evidently rented. The Mer waited for him to enter, then closed the door behind him. Politely taking the letter from his hands, he walked over to the small table in the room and motioned for him to sit, pouring them both some wine.

Setting the letter on the table, as if it held little importance. He sipped on his wine, as he looked Ranulf over. Only being able to see his face, from the nose down. What looked like a genuine smile, came to his face. Even showing teeth. "What are you supposed to be?" Folding his hands across his chest, he reclined in the chair, awaiting an answer.

Ranulf let out a deep breath, "The courier he wrangled to do the job was killed. I didn't think it wise to come in here armed to the teeth." 

Long elegant finger lifted the goblet, so he could sip. "I see... so you thought to impersonate him... is that it?" 

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence... no doubt, his intent. The Altmer set down the wine and picked up the letter, breaking the wax seal, "I hate to tell you this, but it didn't work. You still look like... what you are... no offense intended of course. I might as well try to impersonate one of Ulfric's men and waltz into Windhelm... do you think that would work?" He didn't even look up at him, Ranulf knew he didn't care about what he thought.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, fighting to keep quiet. Knowing the Thalmor didn't want an answer, he was just bein a bastard. Tryin to put him in his place, just like the other. 

There was trouble brewin in the land, Ulfric had been makin a lot of noise over the treaty. Everyone was uptight, afraid... angry. He'd be willin to bet his life, a time was comin when not just the Nords... but all of Skyrim, would fight back! Whispers of rebellion was on everyone's lips. 

He watched as the Mer opened the letter and read. Much to his surprise, he actually laughed as he read it! He became giddy... excited... almost like he was overjoyed. Something _he_ thought the Thalmor incapable of. At least the ones he'd met so far.

Setting the letter down, he removed his hood and leveled his green gaze onto Ranulf. His silver white hair flowed around his face. A wicked smile graced his mouth, showing perfect white teeth. Just like the one he was takin orders from, he was beautiful... and downright evil. Just looking at him, made Ranulf's small hairs stand on end. What in oblivion did they have planned?

"Tell me, bandit... How good are you at trapping?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Also, again... I don't think there are doors in the Inn in the game, but I'm writing that it does.**


	20. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She lay there, listening... her hands clamped over her mouth, tears running onto the furs she lay on. She heard him stop at her tree. She could smell him, his scent was so strong. He just seemed to be standing down there, he was being quiet.
> 
> She didn't understand him, she had thought over it so much, every minute that he'd been gone. Both of them... they had taken so much interest... and then, they just went away. She couldn't do it! She didn't know how to fight the feelings she felt. Wanting the life they had... the need to be with others. The need to have a mate, to feel what he made her feel.
> 
> She did know one thing though, she couldn't stand the pain she'd felt at not seeing him. It scared her. It was too much like the pain she'd had after her mother and her Ata were killed. Now, he was leaving. She wouldn't follow... she wouldn't. She couldn't go through that again.

**********

He'd been silent the whole way home. So lost in thought, he hadn't even noticed if they had been watching him or not. The only thing running through his mind, was whether or not she would have anything to do with him now. What had happened while he'd been gone? What had she thought? 

He'd been plagued by that thought. The fear that she would think he'd abandoned her. When that was the last thing he would ever do! But, she wouldn't understand. Understand that he had responsibilities.

As soon as they'd gotten to Whiterun, all he could do was look at the forest... apprehension filling him. They left the horses at the stables and walked through the gates. Everything in him, wanted to break into a run. He pushed it back, forcing himself to walk... act like an adult. He took a silent, deep breath and walked in. Calm and cool, he walked to his room. Barely noticing anyone... or anything. He had to get out, he had to get to her!

Leaving his armor and gear in his room, knowing Tilma would take care of it later. He gathered a clean tunic and breeches and walked out, closing the door. His brother stood in the hallway, quietly watching him. Farkas looked down the end of the hallway, away from him. "I won't be back till tomorrow..."

Vilkas gave him a slight nod. He knew it would do no good to talk. His brother was on the defensive, he had been for quite some time now. Vilkas also knew that it was his fault. Try as he may though, he still couldn't dispel the fear he felt for him. He may as well back off and give him his room. 

Skjor was in, talking to Kodlak... the job had went well. Farkas had done his job and he'd done it honorably. That is all that mattered. He watched as his brother walked down the hallway and disappeared through the doorway.

It was getting dark... it was time.

He walked into the underforge. Dropping the clean clothing he'd brought, he undressed. He'd longed for this... his wolf had longed for this. Thoughts of her filling his mind... he crouched down, breathing in deeply, feeling the itch crawl across his skin... he let the change take him.

At first, he moved slowly. His muzzle to the stones... to the ground, breathing in every scent, his tongue tasting. He'd caught a faint smell of her by the back opening of the underforge but it was old, how old, he couldn't tell. It definitely wasn't fresh. He didn't know how to feel about that. This was his fear, the whole time they'd been gone. 

He was torn, and his heart ached. If she had been there everyday... looking for him, coming up empty each time. If she had given up... 

How would he get her to understand, that he wanted her? That he wanted more... he _needed_ more! How could he get her to understand, that he would have to leave again? That this would all happen again, each time he had a job to do. Then, there was another thought that had plagued his mind... and his heart. What if she didn't feel the same about him? 

Each time he felt that, he shook it off. He felt what she felt... he smelled what she gave off when he was around. It wasn't just the need to mate, it was much more than that. Much more. He knew deep down, that this feeling was simply his own fear. Just fear, and nothing more. 

He needed to be able to communicate with her on a higher level. They needed to break that barrier. That way, they wouldn't have to go through this each time he left. It would get easier for both of them. He'd thought about the fact, that she may never feel comfortable living inside the city. Maybe they could have a place of their own? He'd want her to eventually be able to come inside though. Whiterun was open enough, maybe... 

A lot of maybe's. 

He knew that she could do it. He would help her. He would be patient... no matter how long it took.

On all fours, he ran into the forest.

**************

He couldn't believe they hadn't returned yet! He would have that worthless Nord's head for this! 

Standing behind the pillar, absolutely furious, Estormo watched the Lycan. As soon as the Companions had returned, he'd been notified. Casting an invisibility spell, he'd crept up to his hiding spot. He knew the wolf would want to see her. And he was right! Just shortly after arriving, he'd caught movement at the opening in the great wall that surrounded the city. 

It would be so much harder now. Taking her without alerting the Companion, without entering into a fight with him in either form. That was something they did not need! 

They also didn't want their presence to be known. They needed to secure the Bosmer and leave!

He'd waited so long, all the time spent... searching. Twelve long years, he'd waited so patiently. He and the other... his mentor... they had waited so long, for her to come out from hiding. They knew it was a female, there was a doll. His mentor still had it, back in the Isles. They had kept a few things from the parents as well... momentos. 

He would have wanted her right then... he had fantasized about it! Of course, his mentor would never have allowed it. She had to be kept pure, and he preferred them a bit older. But he would have given him a little something. Just as Nelanare would, when he got back with her. A reward for her capture. 

Of course, his mentor would get much, much more... she would grow to trust _him._ Then, he would have complete control over her. He envied him. 

She was beautiful, just like her mother had been. And she would be just as sweet. They must be successful! He couldn't fail. She must be kept pure! 

*************

As soon as he got under cover of the pines, he slowed. He knew better than to sniff the ground. She wouldn't go to the forest floor without him here. Not unless she had to. He looked up. He would keep watch in the trees, until he got closer to her's. 

Her scent was all over up in the trees, and it was fresh. She'd been out today. With him gone though, she may have gone back to sleeping at night. Another thing that clenched his chest up. Just his presence alone, was interfering with her life... everything she had to do to survive. He would have to start coming to her in human form, during the day. Then, if he transformed... it would be out here, with her.

She was no where. He looked up into her tree, she must be asleep. No sound came from her home. 

Again, he was torn... should he leave? Should he let her rest? He looked up into the tree, and stayed silent. Turning to leave, he would try to rest and come back in the morning... as a man. He wouldn't disrupt her routine.

**************

She lay there, listening... her hands clamped over her mouth, tears running onto the furs she lay on. She heard him stop at her tree. She could smell him, his scent was so strong. He just seemed to be standing down there, he was being quiet. She didn't understand him, she had thought over it so much, every minute, that he'd been gone. 

Both of them... they had taken so much interest... and then, they just went away. She couldn't do it... she didn't know how to fight the feelings she felt. Wanting the life they had... the need to be with others. The need to have a mate, to feel what he made her feel. 

She did know one thing though, she couldn't stand the pain she'd felt, at not seeing him. It scared her. It was too much like the pain she'd had after her mother and her Ata were killed. Now, he was leaving. She wouldn't follow... she wouldn't. She couldn't go through that again. 

*************

It was dark, he sat in his quarters and waited, sipping his wine. There had been no point in him remaining outside. It was too dark to see. Au-riel only knew, what the Lycan and their Bosmer were doing. He got up, pacing in front of the fire pit... fretting over it. If they got this close to having her, and that wretched dog fouled it up!

Pounding on his door, startled him out of his internal fit throwing. He almost ran to it, throwing it open. Sorcal stood before him, behind him, the Nord. He stepped back, waving his hand for them both to enter. Estormo looked at Ranulf, his face twisted in a disgusted sneer as he poured wine for his superior. Ranulf swallowed hard, watching as the Mer he'd traveled with, leaned his backside against the table... staring at him. 

"What took so long!" He seemed to relax enough to take down his hood. Both of them had, now that they were together. He wasn't talking to Ranulf... he was talking to his counterpart. He wanted to hear it from him.

Sorcal watched Ranulf as he answered... the Nord was fighting to stay still. They could both sense his fear. His brow was beaded with sweat. Smiling that wicked smile, his long fingers, playfully caressing the goblet. "It was my fault... really. I wasn't where I said I would be. He had to go to Ivarstead to find me."

He continued smiling, "He was also, alone... evidently the courier and his female companion were killed. A tussle with sabre cats?... wasn't it?"

Estormo looked at him, he seemed to be studying him. Seeing if any expression or action would prove him false. He just nodded, trying to remain calm while he was being checked over. He stepped closer... everything in him wanted to retreat, to back away. He fought it, standing still, sweat running down the sides of his face.

The Mer was leaning down... they were almost nose to nose. His green eyes, intensely staring into his blue ones. So close, he could feel his breath. Ranulf could see the other, from the corner of his eye... taking in the display of power going on before him, a wide grin spread on his golden face. He felt like he was shrinking by the second... if he only could have. 

Finally, he spoke. "How fortunate for you, to be the only survivor." 

He smiled and backed away. Staring into the fire, the other one took a seat at the table, kicking his feet up, listening. "I did promise you a reward, Ranulf... didn't I." 

At this point, he didn't want anything but his life. That would be reward enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, taking full advantage of the Thalmor's badness here... kind of to the xtreme as well. But, maybe not. Please remember, I am a fan of the ones I use and of my OC's, so no hard feelings. Just want to say that up front.


	21. I'm So Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her chocolate colored skin, such a beautiful contrast to his. She was amazing.
> 
> "So beautiful... don't ever hide your face."
> 
> Her eyes were huge, looking up into his. They were knee to knee. He could hear her heart beat, thrumming in her chest like a rabbit's. Her breathing increased. Pheromones, were literally pouring out of her.
> 
> Gods... he wanted to kiss her so bad... he looked down, then slowly moved closer. He had to taste her lips... just once. He couldn't wait. He'd dreamt of her every night. How her tiny body would feel against his...
> 
> He needed her.

***********

On all fours, he walked back to the underforge. Black as pitch, no one would have seen. Right then, he didn't care if they did. His insides were so twisted up. All he could think about was seeing her tomorrow. Worrying over how it would go. A few bottles of mead and his bed. That's what he needed. Then he'd be back, bright and early.

***********

They had demanded he sleep away from the others... in there with them. Like he could sleep. He felt like he was treading water and the sharks were circling, getting ready to come in for the kill. 

He knew why they wanted him kept separate. They were going to kill the others. There were only three left, without him and the bitch he'd killed. It wouldn't be a task too difficult. The only reason they still drew breath, was cause they were needed as spies or servants. They also didn't want him trying to escape. They needed his help, for right now anyway.

They would be getting up before the dawn, to discuss the plan. Whatever the plan was... that worried him. He didn't want anymore to do with them... this plan of their's.

Waking to the smell of tea and eggs, he lay there silent, thinking over last night. He had finally learned their names... he didn't think that was a good thing. He didn't want to know. The more he knew, the more vulnerable he felt. Why would they share things with him, unless they planned on keeping him with them, or killing him. He didn't want either! He wanted to be done with this!

He wanted to get back to Jorn, he'd get him and they'd get as far away from here as possible! Right now, he wasn't so sure if he'd ever see him again. That worried him. A lot, worried him. Especially what they expected of him. So far, all he'd been told was they needed him to help them trap something. That was it.

"I know you are awake... you may as well get up and break your fast." 

Fear shot through him! His guts were twisted up from stress, his head throbbing. He sat up, the elf's back had been to him the entire time... could he hear him blink? Hear his thoughts?

His eyes caught movement from the other side of him. Sorcal was sitting at the table, sipping on his tea, and watching him. He hadn't been able to get anything out of him either, the whole time they traveled together. It had been nothing but uncomfortable silence. Ranulf didn't like the fact that the Companions were involved. Estormo had reassured him before he'd even set off, that it was only the one. 

Like that mattered! If they pissed off one, the whole lot of them would end up joining in!

He joined both Mer at the table. Choking down an egg, listening to them while they talked. "How are we to set traps without her seeing? We do not even know where she will be! You _know_ she will not just show herself to us! And if the Lycan is always with her..."

Sorcal took a deep breath, letting it out in frustration. "I don't see how we can succeed... not without getting caught. We would have to kill him, and if we are found out by any!" Sorcal's green eyes narrowed, settling on him as he spoke his last words! 

"That will just aggravate the situation, making it harder for any of us to return. You know how they defend their own..."

This was getting worse and worse by the second... the Companion was a Lycan? What he wanted to do, was let loose of his breakfast... all over the damned table! The thought of quarreling with a Companion was bad enough... but a lycan?

He'd seen what was left of a few, that had been unfortunate enough to come face to face with one of them. There hadn't been a whole lot left. And if the Companion was one... well, you may as well just bend over and kiss your arse goodbye!

He swallowed, "Who are we trapping?" Both pairs of green eyes settled on him.

Estormo looked at him as if he were a bug, his upper lip curling slightly as he tilted his head. "A Bosmer... a wild Bosmer."

He tried his best to act unaffected by all of it. Whoever this poor Bosmer was... he didn't know why they wanted her, but it definitely couldn't be for anything good. And he more than likely wouldn't be told either. His thoughts alone, about made him sick. He shoved them out, "How old is she?" 

Both of the Mer stiffened up. "There's a good reason that I'm askin..." 

That didn't seem to ease the tension at the table, but at least he got the answer. "We know it to be less than twenty. Perhaps around fifteen to sixteen years. We don't know an exact age though... why!" 

"If she's in that forest, there's a few old pit traps that ain't been used in years. Their all pretty close to the rock face though, coming up from the river. You'd have to lure her to one, or she'd have to have a reason to go over there."

Sorcal sat back in his chair, Ranulf could tell he was losing patience. "We don't want her dead, or wounded... scarred up. Don't they all contain- " 

Looking at them both, he cut him off. "Not these... no spikes. I know the man that dug em. They've been covered up for years. She probably doesn't even know about them."

Back when he was just in his young years, right after he'd left Riften, he'd taken up with a hunter for awhile. Older man... taught him everything he knew about hunting. The man had shown him where they were.

He'd dug them all years before, and he checked them regularly so that any prey that fell in wouldn't suffer too long. Kept them covered up with branches and leaves. He had't put spikes in them, for fear of a person falling in one. The spikes also tended to ruin skins and some choice pieces of meat, so he didn't feel there was a need. 

They blended right in to the forest floor. Since they'd been in this area, he'd actually looked in on them, and they'd remained untouched. 

The hunter had died some years ago, and Ranulf had added stronger branches to them. Thinking about the Nord, he knew he would be around sparingly. The old man wouldn't have wanted someone winding up in one, busted up from the fall, laying in there dying. It was the least he could do.

A knock sounded off at their door, Estormo rose from the table and answered it. One of the other Nord males he'd traveled with, entered. He wouldn't even look at Ranulf. And Ranulf couldn't look at him. He knew he'd been labelled a turncoat. Coming back without her, then shackin up in here with them. Like that'd been his choice!

It didn't matter. He was too far in it to turn back now, like he'd go back to bein with them anyway! That would never happen... not after this. Not if he made it out alive. 

"The Companion has left the gates. He's headed into the forest... as a man this time. He's wearing his armor and has a great sword... that's it. He's alone."

He turned and left. Sorcal stood, "It's time. We need to stand watch at the pillar until he's into the forest. We will then, circle around... we need to stay upwind and near the rock face." 

Estormo nodded, turning to Ranulf. "We will use spells to hide with... keep quiet. We need to see these traps. As long as they can't smell us, we will remain undetected." 

The smile they gave each other, sent chills running through him.

************

Farkas walked into the forest, weaving through the trees, constantly glancing upward. He could smell her. And he knew, he wasn't as quiet when he wasn't in wolf form. She'd be able to hear him coming a mile away. He was right. She heard him... smelled him. She was sitting in a branch, in her tree... looking down at him. 

She looked stressed too. Her little dark eyebrows were all crunched up. Her beautiful lips, pushed out into a pout. At least her little ears weren't pinned back to her head... that was a good thing. Tilted forward just a touch.

He stopped... just taking her in. She was so breathtaking. She had donned warmer coverings, handmade boots going all the way up to her knees. Doeskin leggings that any seamstress would be envious of. The only thing uncovered were her forearms and hands. No hood yet, but that would change as it got colder. Her dark braids, hung all around her. The teal colored tattoos on her face, accentuating every curve of her delicate bone structure... every emotion she felt.

He had to communicate with her. The body language of his wolf form, and the little bit of vocalization he could make... it was no longer enough. He could tell she was upset with him. She was upset that he had left her, and the communication of an animal wasn't going to fix that. It wasn't going to make it better. 

But he would never admit, that she couldn't be tamed... that she couldn't learn. He knew just how smart she was. He also knew, that no matter how much she changed... she would always have wild blood in her. A part of her would always crave this, and that is where his wolf form would come in. They could have the best of both worlds.

He took a deep breath, looking down at his feet. Gods! the way she was looking at him, it was like she was looking right into his very soul. Those eyes... huge almonds, so warm and yet... there was so much pain. It made his heart hurt. 

He looked back up at her. "I'm sorry..." he got closer to the tree, putting his hands on it. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to leave... I didn't have a choice." 

Her head tilted... He had to talk to her! Godsdamn it all!

His hands ran through his black hair nervously, "I want you to follow me... there's a safe place. I want to be with you... be close to you. I want to talk. I can't come up there." He was getting frustrated.

He knew she had to know some of what he said. Hrongar had said she reacted when he spoke, just like she did with him. He knew that she knew what he wanted. He started walking, looking back at her to see if she would follow. For a minute she stayed still. He kept walking, looking back... finally, she had started to follow, moving through the trees. 

There was a small cave in the rock face... just past the river. It was high up, so they'd have to do some climbing to get to it. But it would be off the ground, and she wouldn't be out in the open... she would feel safe.

It didn't take long to get to. The closer they got, he could tell, she had already spotted it. She was moving faster in the trees, than he was on the ground. He started climbing onto the ledge and she leapt. Right over his head, she clung to the rocks, moving upwards, until all he could see, was her looking down at him from the mouth of the cave.

The little brat was smiling down at him... like ha ha, I got here first. He couldn't help but smile, he wanted to laugh. But that wouldn't help get his big ass up there. That's when it hit him. He needed to get his armor off. It was too heavy, making it too hard to climb up.

He dropped down to the ground, looking up at her. "I need to take off some weight..." he laughed, his brother'd be ribbin him about that if he'd heard. He let out a breath, taking off the armor, one piece at a time, laying it up against the rocks. Then his sword. 

Looking back up, she was still looking down at him. Her head tilted, watching him silently. She was probably wondering why he was having such a hard time of it. He laughed again, who was inferior... him. Maybe even in his wolf form. He definitely picked the right woman. She'd be able to out do him in almost everything.

Keeping on just his tunic, breeches and boots. He began climbing. It still wasn't easy, not by a long shot. But, after a few minutes and a lot of sweat... he made it. 

She sat back, resting her bottom on her heels... watching him. He was out of breath, sitting on his knees, he needed a minute. The way she looked at him, made him laugh. Like she was concerned for him. Hell... he was only eighteen, the ease that she'd climbed the rock face, made him feel like an old fuckin man. 

She smiled at him, showing her teeth. Bright white teeth... with those cute little fangs. Instantly, like she'd been caught... she put her hands up to her face, hiding her smile.

He eased over to her, slowly. Her eyes got bigger, but she stayed put. He shook his head, smiling, he raised his hands to hers. Real softly... "Don't... don't hide it." 

Very carefully, he took her hands away. "You are so beautiful..." he held onto her hands. Her chocolate colored skin, such a beautiful contrast to his. She was amazing. "So beautiful... don't ever hide your face."

Her eyes were huge, looking up into his. They were knee to knee. He could hear her heart beat, thrumming in her chest like a rabbit's. Her breathing increased. Pheromones were literally pouring out of her.

Gods... he wanted to kiss her so bad... he looked down, then slowly... he moved closer. He had to taste her lips... just once. He couldn't wait. He'd dreamt of her every night. How her tiny body would feel against his... 

He needed her. 

She stayed still, he could see her swallow. Her mouth opened slightly, allowing her to take in more air. Her little pink tongue, coming to the edge of her lips, tasting his scent. 

His own heart, hammering in his chest. He lowered his face, until his lips were just brushing against hers... just the slightest touch. His hair fell into his face. Automatically, he closed his eyes, just keeping his mouth up to hers. His lips parted... her heart was doing double time, her temperature had increased, he could smell her beginning to sweat. He could taste her.. 

He edged closer, taking her upper lip in between his and just held it. His tongue darted out, just barely a flick against hers. Then.... he opened his eyes.

She was frozen to the spot, her eyes were fixed on his face. He could smell and taste, that she wanted him. But, she was also overwhelmed. He swallowed and backed away... still holding onto her hands. He didn't want to let go. 

She calmed a little, now that her personal space wasn't being so invaded. He licked his lips. "I guess, I should know your name, before we kiss huh?" he laughed nervously.

She watched him, tilting her head. She looked like she wanted to tell him so much.. he bet she'd have stories galore. "I'm Farkas... that means wolf. At least... that's what Kodlak says." He licked his lips again... nervous habit. 

"Please... can you tell me yours. I... I know you can talk... please, please try." He couldn't get any closer to her, without having her on his lap. They were knee to knee, him holding her hands. Still sitting in the opening of the cave, he hadn't dared to take her farther in. He knew what it was like to feel closed up. He wanted her to know, she could leave anytime she needed to.

He saw the realization come into her eyes.. he could see it, plain as day. She knew what he wanted. He could also see panic, rising in her face. He could smell it.

She looked out into the forest, then down at their hands. She swallowed, shaking her head... she started to pull away... whimpering. She looked at him, backing up slowly until she was against the stone of the cave wall. Her face almost seemed to pull into a grimace, like she would cry. Her hands went up to her mouth, she looked down and then out, into the woods. Her mouth opened trying to form words... but they wouldn't come. 

He watched her, his own panic coming. He backed away, raising his hands to let her know, she was alright. "It's okay... it's okay..." He shook his head, his heart hurting. Hurting for them both... he needed her to talk to him. He wanted to be patient, he just didn't know how much longer he could wait.

***********

A tear, rolled down her cheek. She looked out... so afraid, someone would hear... someone would hear! They couldn't be here now... that was so, so long ago. It would be safe... just this once. Then, maybe... maybe, it would get easier. He would keep her safe...

She got up onto her toes and moved so carefully to him. Getting up next to his ear, he could feel her breathing... her body was shaking. She put her hand up to shield the noise. "Sssuuunnnabee..." Quickly, she moved back away from him. Her hands, once again covered her mouth. She swallowed... panting, tears ran down her face.

Again... he raised his hands to her. "It's okay.. Sunnabe? Your name... it's Sunnabe?"

He needed to be quiet... he needed to stop. Someone would hear! 

She kept shaking her head at him, her hands clutching her head... what had she done! A noise from below made her freeze. 

***********

He watched her, she was in a complete panic. He didn't understand... why was just speaking her name, so horrible? She acted like she'd committed a crime. A twig snapped down below, an absolutely horrified look overtook her. She froze... then, grabbing hold of the sharpened piece of bone, hanging from her waist, she crept toward the overhang.

He sat with his mouth agape, watching her. Her ears were perked, she couldn't see anything. But she'd heard it.. there was someone out there. Down on the forest floor. She inched closer to the edge, peeking her head over to see.

Before he could even react... almost, as if time itself, had slowed down. A flash of green light, hit her from below. Her whole body locked up... then went limp. She fell! 

He screamed out! "Sunnabbeee!!!" 

Rushing over to the edge, he heard it too late! It came up out of nowhere.. blinding green. There was no one there... as if it came from nothing!

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. Immense pain, flared through his side. He could smell his own blood. Whatever spell he was under... it wasn't doing anything for his pain. Slowly, his vision finally returned. He could see, smell... feel and hear. But, he couldn't move. He couldn't make a sound. He could barely swallow. 

Saliva, ran out from the corner of his mouth, onto the leaves and pine needles he lay on. He could feel the chill of the air. And now, he could hear them... 

There was more than one of them, he could hear them talking. By the sound of it, two Elves and one Nord. 

They were arguing.

**********

"Bind her! Quickly!.." Sorcal walked around her, while Estormo bound her hands behind her back to her ankles. 

Estormo whispered to her, while he worked.. "I know your name now... little one." He giggled. Caressing her cheek with his long finger. "I know your name... after twelve long years of waiting..."

He bent his face down to her ear, sliding his tongue along it, up to the tip. "Sunnabe..." 

Sorcal, walked over to the Companion, Ranulf at his side. He looked down, "Kill him! There are to be no witnesses! Then dump his body into that trap, along with his armor and sword. By the time he's discovered... if ever, we will be long gone." He turned to walk away. 

Ranulf thought he would be sick, he looked down at the Nord... he was so young... Gods.. What had they done... he looked over at her, tears welling up in his eyes. Sorcal turned back to him, "Do it now! Or you'll stay behind... dead, rotting along with him!" 

He nodded, "Alright... alright..." 

********

He looked down at Farkas, he could see him... he could feel the Nord's tears hitting his face. Watching, as he picked up a large rock, holding it in both hands... above his head. He wanted to cry out! Scream for him to stop! No sound would come... 

Tears streamed down Ranulf's dirty face, he could see the fear, so apparent in the young Companion's eyes. His quiet voice, choked in his anguish. 

"I'm so... so sorry..."


	22. What Have I Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranulf said a silent prayer and looked at Sorcal from the corner of his eye. He was busy over with the Bosmer and the other. He slammed the rock down hard into the ground, right next to the young Nord's head.
> 
> Crouching down, he quietly lifted a finger to his lips... Ranulf wanted to reassure him so badly, but he didn't dare speak a word, lest they hear.

**************

Holding the rock over his head... looking down into the Companion's eyes. The young Nord's fear so apparent. He couldn't imagine, watching your demise coming and not even being able to utter a word against your attacker. What they were doing... it was cowardice! Ranulf swallowed... he couldn't do it. But, if he didn't... 

He'd never been a praying man... he knew he didn't deserve to be answered. But this Companion... he was good, he saved, he fought for others! He was deserving. 

Ranulf said a silent prayer and looked at Sorcal from the corner of his eye. He was busy over with the Bosmer and the other. He slammed the rock down hard into the ground, right next to the young Nord's head. Crouching down, he quietly lifted a finger to his lips... Ranulf wanted to reassure him so badly, but he didn't dare speak a word, lest they hear.

As gently as possible, he rolled him over, until he fell into the pit. Trying to do it so he wouldn't suffer too much injury from the fall. Knowing the young man probably already had some injuries, just from the fall he'd taken off from the ledge. There was no other choice.

Ranulf watched him carefully, he could see his chest rise and fall... he still lived. He had to be quick, he didn't want them to suspect anything. Very carefully, he tossed the armor and sword in at the other end and then loosely laid branches over the opening.

How in oblivion was he going to get free from them... he had to tell someone! He had to get help! If he didn't... 

"It was all too easy, wasn't it..."

Ranulf jumped, turning around, his breath caught in his throat! Sorcal was right behind him... Gods! He'd been so deep in thought, he hadn't even noticed! Swallowing hard, trying to act as normal as possible, he nodded in agreement. 

The Mer chuckled, folding his hands together nonchalantly. "The Companion unknowingly led her right to us... so convenient."

Ranulf licked his lips nervously. He was afraid to take his eyes off him, but yet he couldn't help but keep looking over at the Bosmer. The way Estormo kept fawning over her... touching her, it was making him sick! The poor little thing, she couldn't move, couldn't defend herself! 

Looking at the Mer, at what was happening and what they had done. What they more than likely intended to do. He was absolutely filled with hatred... pure hatred! He wanted to kill him... he wanted to kill them both!

"You feel bad for her... don't you." It wasn't a question. More like an accusation, a critique! The Mer studied him, looking down his nose at him. Now that the threat was gone, they had removed their hoods. His silver-white hair, flying in the breeze, he tilted his head... 

Before the next words could come out of his mouth, Estormo began screaming.

Ranulf's mouth dropped, and Sorcal turned. For what seemed like forever, they were both frozen to the spot... like neither of them could believe what they were actually seeing. 

She had him... she was loose and she had him! 

Gods! He was on his back... and she was all over him! He couldn't figure out how to get free from her. The only thing Ranulf's mind could conjure up... it was like the cat, that had finally gotten hold of the squirrel it had been stalking. And now.. well, now it was too fucking late!

She was biting him... over and over... everywhere. He was thrashing and trying to get away... and screaming. Sorcal finally snapped out of his trance, running over to them.

Before Ranulf ran, he saw her take one last bite. 

Her mouth sank down onto the Mer's thigh and she pulled a plug of flesh right out of him so big, that she couldn't even close her mouth around it! 

She sat on him, glaring down at him... the flesh and a bit of his breeches in her mouth, her face covered in his blood. His hands clamped down over the wound... blood flowing through his fingers, and he let loose with the most Gods awful, high pitched scream! 

He ran.... tears flowing down his cheeks... he ran! Faster than he'd ever run in his entire life! He could hear them, Estormo was still screaming. He prayed... He could see the stone wall surrounding the city. Running out of the trees, he headed for the gates.

**************

Bright green light engulfed her! Once more, she fell limp, right on top of him. The meat fell from her mouth as he kicked her off, and she fell onto the ground.

"Shut up!... Shut up! Fool! Hold still!" Grabbing his arm roughly, attempting to hold him in place, healing light flowed from his hand, covering the wound on his leg. Sorcal shook his head... it would take a long time to heal, much longer than they had right now. But at least, he wouldn't bleed to death.

"Bitch!" Estormo's voice jittery from pain and tears. His now pallid face, pulled into a grimace of pure agony. "That Bitch! Look what she's done to me! Au-riel..." 

He was covered in bites... absolutely covered! Healing light ran all over him, some of the pain from the minor wounds was waning. But the big one... Gods! His leg may never be the same. There was a gaping wound where his flesh and muscle had once been. Nelanare was going to be furious... not to mention someone else. He didn't even want to think about that! He sat up. 

Sorcal's lip curled up in disgust! "If you hadn't been so distracted with fondling her, instead of securing her properly, this wouldn't have happened!" 

He turned, he needed to wrap his comrade's leg, he could have the Nord retie her... better this time! His eyes combed the trees for him. His mouth dropped open as panic filled him! He was gone! The Nord was gone! For how long? They had to move and they had to move now! Damn it!

"He's gone! He's left! We must move now!" he grabbed Estormo, pulling him up. 

Thank the divines they'd brought horses. He grabbed a vial out of his satchel, pouring it down her throat. He sat her up, just enough so she wouldn't choke. It would wipe her out, she would sleep for hours. Giving them the uninterrupted time they needed to make their escape.

Thanks to that worthless waste of life, they had trusted... they wouldn't have time to gather any of their things! The other bandits would continue to exist, which meant they could be questioned! 

And now because of this, even with claiming their prize, both of their ranks would be in jeopardy! They had been trusted... and they had failed. That meant humiliation of the worst kind. They would be looked down upon by not only their peers... but everyone in the order. 

They hadn't even been here to get her. She was a bonus! Their Thalmor superiors wouldn't care that they had been able to get her. Only two of them, even knew about her. She was a personal gift to Nelanare and their mentor. What their superiors in the order cared about, was the information that they were supposed to gather. And they had gotten it, but now, they couldn't keep the fact that they had been here hidden. 

Their Thalmor robes were still in the ruin... along with their travel documents. Proof of who they were. This had been so poorly handled, they hadn't been prepared at all.

There were the crimes against a Companion... that would surely not be forgotten! More than just the Nords would be up in arms over that. There would be a lot more of them coming in the days to come, and Whiterun was important to them... more than that. It would be important to Ulfric as well. There were many that sat in wait... watching what he would do.

The pot was simmering and soon, if things went as they wanted, as they hoped... it would be boiling. 

Coming back here, would be out of the question now. They would have to let things settle around this area for awhile. After this disaster, they themselves, would be lucky to leave the Isles again. 

He was literally cringing inside. They let a personal objective interfere with their responsibilities. Sorcal knew who would answer... it would be him! He was Estormo's overseer, his superior in this endeavor. And Estormo's failure, would be seen as his own! It _was_ his own! 

Throwing her over his shoulder, he took Estormo by the arm. Sorcal glanced at him, he was a sickly pale in color... a sheen of sweat, covered his once golden skin. He remained quiet though, for all of his suffering. He knew better than to speak. Potions could be administered and then more healing, once they were in a safer area. He was so angry! If it were up to him, he would be lying dead next to the Companion! At least now, they could tie her to the bandit's horse.

*************

He ran to the gates. Cramps in his side so severe, by the time he got to the guards, he feared he would vomit! He couldn't breathe, his lungs felt like they were on fire. He collapsed onto his knees. Immediately they approached, looking down at him, asking him who he was, what was wrong. He could barely hear over the blood rushing through his head... his heart beat so loud. Trying to talk through his panic and catch his breath.

He pointed around towards the forest... "Companion... hurt! They've got her!" Tears were streaming down his face. He grabbed the guard by the front of his uniform! Yelling! _"THE COMPANION IS HURT!"_

************

Vilkas sat on the outer porch, his feet kicked up on the chair opposite him, reading. Well... trying to read. He'd read the same paragraph over and over, till finally he closed the book and set it on the table. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He hadn't felt like this in a long time... so long in fact, that he almost didn't recognize it at first. 

He lowered his feet and put his elbows to his knees, clasping his hands together, looking down at them. He knew where his brother was. He knew he was in the pines... with her. He knew he was safe. Then why wouldn't this feeling let go of him?

A distant noise caught his ears. He sat up, looking around at the others. No one had seemed to hear it. He licked his lips... it came again. He stood. 

Eorlund had been out there with him and some of the whelps, sitting at one of the tables eating morning meal, before starting up at the forge. He watched him.... he'd been watching him. 

Again, he looked around... no one else heard, because no one else out there had his blood. Kodlak and Skjor were still inside.

It was screaming... he instantly started panting. He couldn't get enough air! Eorlund was on his feet, Vilkas ran to the stone wall, looking out at the forest. Someone was screaming, he watched as a man came sprinting out of the trees! He was headed for the gates! 

Eorlund's hand came down on his shoulder. He couldn't take his eyes off the forest! His chest clenched up, automatically his hand went to his sword. "My brother... something's wrong..."

He turned, looking into Eorlund's concerned face. "My brother... " 

The screaming stopped. 

Jorvaskr's back doors burst open, a guard ran through, out of breath. Yelling, "Companion's hurt! Somewhere in the forest!" 

His voice choked out, "Farkas!" 

Eorlund ran around front, Vilkas was at his side... whelps following along behind them! He could see Kodlak and Skjor, they were running down the stairs. No Vilkas. He turned, hearing the underforge door close.

He jumped from the back entrance and ran. He didn't want to believe what his heart was feeling... what the pain was telling him. He wouldn't believe it! He was alright! 

He heard the horses before they came into view. Kodlak and Skjor rode up along side of him. They were being followed by several Whiterun guard, the man that had run from the woods and two men from the stables, pulling Vilkas' and Farkas' horses along behind. He climbed up onto the saddle and dug his heels in, ignoring the looks on his mentor's faces. 

He knew those looks, and even though he wore the same one, he refused to accept it.

***********

Ranulf's heart was up in his throat. He couldn't take his eyes off him! He was... it was... it was the same man, only smaller. Gods! They were brothers... he wanted to sob! He wanted to wretch! He fought to reign it in, he had to keep it together, he had to show them!

He pulled ahead, riding through the pines, crossing the river and up to the rock face. They were all on the ground now, the guard stayed back, looking for signs of trouble. Knowing the Companions would need room to do what they had to.

Vilkas slowed, his mouth opened as he smelled the air. He could smell him, he could taste him, but he couldn't see him anywhere! He followed the man leading them, before the question could come out of his mouth... he stopped. Vilkas watched, as the Nord pulled branches away to reveal a pit trap. He watched his face, he could feel what he felt... smell the fear and guilt pouring out of him. He was looking down into the pit, on his knees. 

Kodlak and Skjor walked to the edge and looked down. Then, they looked up at him... they could see the look he bore, the way he watched the Nord. And they could feel what he was feeling. Kodlak raised his hands to him, in attempt to settle him. "He's alive Vilkas... he's hurt, but he's alive." 

He slowly walked up to the edge and looked down. His brother lay in a tangled mess of roots, on the floor of the pit. His armor and sword had been tossed down there with him. His face was covered in cuts and bruises. But, he was breathing... he was alive.

His fists clenched as he looked up at the Nord that had led them. His face pulled into a snarl... his heart, so full of rage and pain! Right then... from that moment, everything became a blur... he blacked out. Nothing he did, would he remember... 

But they would... everyone there would.


	23. All I See...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skjor wrapped himself around him and they dropped to the ground! His arms and legs locked tightly around him! His own tears, running into his ears and onto the dirt under him. He held him, feeling the change leave him. His whole body shook, from the flow of adrenaline running through him. 
> 
> Vilkas threw his head back, his mouth open. His fangs, slowly pulling up into his flesh... disappearing.. He cried up to the sky... the sound that came forth, neither himself, nor Kodlak would ever forget it.

*************

Skjor instantly stood up, shouting orders to the guards. "You all need to go, now! Bring back the carriage, quick!" He knew what was going to happen, and they couldn't have the guard present when it did. It was bad enough, that the man that led them here would see. Nothing they could do about that now.

Right now the goal was keeping, not only the man that seemed to have the answers alive, but getting Farkas out of the pit and getting him home... healed. They could deal with damage control later. 

Skjor raised his hands up to Vilkas. "Vilkas... now..." 

Kodlak wanted to walk around the pit... try to reason with him, but now he knew it was too late. It would only take a second for Vilkas to clear it. They had to stand together. He calmly talked to him, "Vilkas, you don't want to do this! He's going to be alright..." It didn't matter, the boy was beyond words. He could see it... the crawl starting across his flesh. 

Skjor silently motioned with his arm, for Ranulf to move back... he needed to get back! Vilkas was no longer in control. His wolf was the one in charge now. And if they ever wanted to find out exactly what had happened here, they would have to get hold of him.

*************

He didn't feel the tears that slid down his cheeks, all he felt, was rage... all consuming rage. Somewhere far away in the distance... he could hear them... see them. Then, it all went away.

Vilkas went down into a crouch, arms out at his sides, hands stretched into claws. His eyes shifting from white ice, to a deep yellow. His mouth pulled into snarl, baring his teeth, his lips and throat quivered and rippled under the force of the growl coming out! He was looking through them... he didn't even see them. All he saw, was his target!

Ranulf watched from behind them. The straps were busting loose on his armor... it was falling away. The two older ones were yelling at him... trying to get him to calm down. He didn't even seem to hear them... see them. His yellow eyes were fixed on him.

It was like he exploded! Launching himself over the pit! The roar that erupted from his throat was deafening! His face was changing... the bone and muscle, shifting. They had him by the arms, attempting to hold him back. Their boots, sliding backwards through the dirt and leaves! 

Ranulf's back pressed up against cold stone... he wasn't going anywhere! There was no where to go! If they couldn't hold him, it would be all over. And he was pushing them back, inch by inch... getting closer. The two older warriors straining against him. He didn't even seem to care that they had him. 

Ranulf's hands dug into the rock face behind him, it was time to make his peace... right after he threw up.

Longer, sharper teeth pushed through, blood and saliva ran down his chin. All Ranulf could see was his face... part of what he had been and part of what he was becoming. His mouth snapping at him, blood and spit flying as he screamed and growled. He just kept getting bigger and bigger... his armor had completely fallen off. His clothing was ripping apart at the seams. The two Nords holding onto him, screaming into his ears.

Kodlak screamed, "He's Alive! Vilkas! Stop... _HE'S ALIVE!... "_

In just seconds, a flicker of something showed in his eyes... the change seemed to halt for just a moment. Tears were sliding down his face. Running through the hair that had started pushing through his skin.

As soon as Vilkas paused, Skjor wrapped himself around him and they dropped to the ground! His arms and legs locked tightly around him. His own tears, running into his ears and onto the dirt under him. He held him, feeling the change leave him. His whole body shook, from the flow of adrenaline running through him. Vilkas threw his head back, his mouth open. His fangs, slowly pulling up into his flesh... disappearing. He cried up to the sky... the sound that came forth, neither himself, nor Kodlak would ever forget it. 

It was a shift... a constant shift, between his wolf and himself. Man and animal. His voice... and the deep, guttural tone of his wolf. An animal, that was never meant to speak like a man. Never meant to form words.

"Mmyyyy... brrotthherrr..." His chest heaved from his sobs, his tears falling into Skjor's face and neck. Skjor rocked back and forth, holding him, calming him. "Shhhh... it's alright... he's going to be alright."

Kodlak knelt by them, watching... his hands went up to his mouth. Gods... to see what may as well be, one of his own children like this. As his father figure, his mentor... his friend. It was killing him. 

But his wolf... his wolf could actually feel the emotion pouring out of Vilkas! Absolute agony... his brother was everything to him and he had been horribly, horribly wronged! He wanted revenge... the wolf in him, wanted blood. Kodlak's chest felt like it was ripping in two. Tears rolled down his cheeks, into his beard. 

Seeing him like this... knowing how he would feel, after it was all over. He knew Vilkas so well, this would end up eating at him. 

Just like what had been plaguing him. It was the same thing, that had been eating at him since the twins ceremony... and if he was to be honest with himself, even before then. He had simply been afraid to confront it. 

Was... What had they done? What had they become?

He had his answer. Seeing this... he knew. This was no way for a warrior to live. Torn between two worlds. Two lives... and to what end?

Ranulf's bladder had let loose, his wet leggings clung to his skin. He collapsed onto the ground, pulling his knees up into his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, pushing his face into his knees and wept. 

*************

The guards had returned... how much they saw, no one really knew. They had all been too busy with the situation. Whatever they did see, it was kept amongst themselves. And they would all be thankful.

They all knew just how fast, gossip could fly through a town... from one town to another. Hell more often than not, it was the guards mouths, that allowed news to travel so fast from place to place. They all knew, a lot of lives had been saved many times due to it. But, evidently this time... well, they would respect the situation and who it involved. They had almost lost one of their own.

It took a few minutes for him to come back. He was light headed. He didn't feel right... he could tell he'd gone through the transformation, but he still didn't feel right. All of his clothes were still on, tattered... but still on. His boots were destroyed, he kicked them off. He could tell by the looks everyone else wore, they'd seen whatever had just happened. And it wasn't good. 

He got to his knees and pushed himself up, looking down into the pit. He had to reign it in... pull it together. Right now, all that mattered was Farkas. Getting him home and getting him well. He didn't even want to think about the man sitting against the rocks. He needed to focus. Skjor clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding. He blew out a deep breath, both of them jumping down together.

Kodlak stayed up top and helped the guards lift the lad from his brother's and Skjor's hands. They carried him over and laid him down, onto the floor of the carriage.

The ride back to town was silent... no one uttered a word. Danica and Acolyte, met them at the gates, along with more guards... and Irileth. She looked to Kodlak, waiting to hear. 

"Tell the Jarl he'll be alright. He's injured, but he'll pull through."

Her deep red eyes locked onto Ranulf, looking him over. She could tell what he was... she'd seen plenty like him. One hand on her hip, the other resting on the hilt of her sword. Her fingers tapping on it. "What about this one!" 

Kodlak glanced at him, then back to her. "We'll handle it..." 

She nodded, calling the extra guard away. 

The whole town seemed to be gathered, between the Huntsman and War Maiden's. Irileth calmly asked people to step aside, as the stretcher hauling his brother was carried through. He still hadn't regained consciousness. Vilkas walked beside him, holding his limp hand, looking down at him constantly.

Danica telling Acolyte to make a bed ready for him. Vilkas' hand tightened around his brother's. "No!..." She looked at him, startled. He could feel all the eyes upon him, he didn't care. He wasn't going to be away from Jorvaskr... and he wasn't going to be away from him! 

"He'll be taken to his home! He needs family, you can do the healing there... please!" His eyes went to Kodlak... an imploring look on his face. The harbinger let out a deep breath, but he nodded. Danica called her assistant back. Telling him she would return after helping with Farkas. 

Vilkas was right... what Farkas needed now, was home... family. He could be healed there and he would be more comfortable. They had a lot to deal with. 

***********

As soon as they got inside, the stretcher was surrounded by whelps. TIlma pushed through them, looking from Vilkas to Farkas, tears running down her face. As soon as she saw him, she about broke. Remembering who surrounded her, she held it back. Their looks told her they all suffered. As soon as her eyes landed on Danica, she knew there was hope. The priestess wouldn't be there if he were dead. He was just so pale.

She ran ahead, down the stairs. They would need hot water, bandages... potions. Everyone backed away some and Kodlak spoke up. "He's injured. Right now, that's all we know... as soon as we know more, we will let you know." 

He glanced over at Ranulf, and Skjor took him by the arm, "We need to get you cleaned up. As soon as they get him looked over, we're gonna have a talk."

They all filed down the stairs, Skjor and Ranulf, headed for the bathing room. Vilkas and Kodlak, stayed with Farkas, getting him settled in his room.

His clothing had to be cut off... what was left of it. Just like his own... he wouldn't think about that right now. Every second, just seeing the condition he was in... the more his rage wanted to return. He was black and blue everywhere. Especially the right side of his face. Angry looking purplish red bruises had sprung up, the longer they watched him... the darker they seemed to get. 

Small cuts and scrapes lined his face and dotted his torso and arms, where roots and twigs had ripped through his tunic. Probably from the fall into the pit. None of them were too severe. It was just all of it... just seeing him this way.

Tilma cleaned his face, dabbing at his cuts and bruises with healing and numbing potions. Every few minutes, she'd run her sleeve across her eyes, mopping up her tears. These boys were like her own... she'd taken care of them since they were just little pups. She sniffed, Kodlak wrapped an arm around her, giving her a reassuring hug.

Danica felt along his head first. The fact that he was still unconscious bothered her. Feeling through his hair... the side of his skull, close to his temple was swollen. Grabbing a cold rag from the bucket of water, she squeezed it out and laid it over the whole right side of his head and face. She would think about that, while she inspected the rest of him.

Having inspected him everywhere, she turned to them, still sitting by his side. "Well, he's got at least a couple of cracked ribs. A few broken fingers, a lot of bruising, as you can see. It's his head that concerns me. I think he has a concussion. And possibly his cheek bone, may be fractured... or broken. We won't know how severe on the head wound though, until he wakes and talks and I can see his eyes better. The good news is... all of these things will heal. The concussion could take more time, than anything else."

She stood, "I can heal him every other day. I will have to take time in between, to let his body do its own work." Looking at Tilma, "He can have healing and pain potions. No alcohol, whatsoever! Not with his head the way it is. He'll need tea, juice and water... " Enough said. She smiled at the old woman, "I know you know how to take care of these boys." She took her hand, giving it a friendly squeeze.

Kodlak and Vilkas, both helped lift him, so she could wrap his ribs. His fingers were swollen, black and blue, but at least they weren't all crooked. She laid his hand over a piece of carved wood, so that his fingers would heal proper and wrapped his hand with it. "The potions will take down the swelling. But that side of his head, it will need cool rags, every hour. For at least until tomorrow. Then I will come back." 

"Someone needs to stay with him, constantly!" Vilkas nodded. He would be staying with him, he wouldn't leave his side. 

"Once he's awake, you look into his eyes... see that they function the same." His chest clenched up, listening to her... what she was saying. He glanced at Farkas. He felt sick... sick inside, in his soul. If he wasn't alright, if his brother wasn't the same after this... he didn't know what he would do. 

He listened. "Get him to talk, stay awake as long as he can. And give him the potions."

Once she was done running her healing over him, she turned to Kodlak and Vilkas. Real quietly, "You said that he was laying on his back, in the pit?" They both nodded.

She glanced back at Farkas. "All of his injuries are to the front, right side of his body. Right side, his ribs... right hand, right side of his head and face. Almost all the bruising is on the front of him. Something else happened to him, Kodlak. _Before_ he fell into that pit." 

She turned to go, Kodlak stopped her, holding up a bag of coins. She shook her head, "You don't owe me..." Looking back at the young man, then to Kodlak. "Find who did this to him... that will be my payment."

Vilkas eyes went to the wall... almost as if seeing through it. The fire in his heart... in his soul... refueled. His fists clenched up, his jaw locked. He felt Kodlak's hand, come down onto his shoulder.


	24. If I Hadn't...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranulf looked at him, square in the eye. "First off, Vilkas... the Thalmor are untouchable. No one can do anything to them. Anyone that tries... lets just say, the Empire will stand back and let them do whatever they want! We had no choice... second, my orders were to kill the courier once the letter was delivered!
> 
> If I hadn't killed her, he would be dead. She would've killed him in a heartbeat... because of me, the boy still lives!"

***********

Without saying a word, Skjor laid the clean clothes in his hands and turned, closing the door behind him.

He looked around the bathing room. Normally, he would've been elated to have the use of such accommodations. He hadn't had a proper bath in so long he couldn't remember. He was appreciative, but under the circumstances he couldn't enjoy it. Hurrying through the bath, he didn't even feel right being here.

Pulling on the clean leggings, he looked into a broken piece of mirror that sat wedged into a wooden beam, in the corner of the room. Looking at his reflection... his red rimmed eyes. He looked how he felt. A lifetime spent of hardening his heart, bricking up wounds and hurts, so that he would never have to see a reflection like this again.

He couldn't remember when the last time was that he'd cried. And yet today... today, he'd cried so much. Possibly, more than he had in his entire life. Yet, he didn't feel ashamed... and he wouldn't. Not about the tears. That boy laying in there... the Bosmer. The grief he felt for them, was near crippling. 

There was evidently a price to finding his heart again... making it beat again. Whatever the sentence was for what he'd done... he'd face it. He'd face it, knowing that he was human once more. Not the unfeeling, empty, imitation he'd been for so many years.

But if he was spared... given a chance to make amends, he would make things right! He would fight for those who couldn't... he would be worthy when his time came, and he would take his place in Sovngarde.

He leaned his head against the glass, taking in a deep breath. 

************

Vilkas walked alongside of Kodlak. Tilma would sit with his brother until they were done with this talk. 

He fought to reign it in. Now that he could see the traitor sitting at Kodlak's table, he took a deep breath... he would need all his strength. Kodlak gave him a reassuring glance, he knew he could do it.

Right now, Kodlak had more faith in him, than he did himself.

**********

Thank the Gods that Skjor had given him a bottle while they waited. He needed it. Now, seeing this young man... this Companion that had wanted to end him, walk through the door... he needed another.

The look on the young man's face, spoke a thousand words. And none of them were good. It told Ranulf everything about how he felt, what he thought of him... and it told him how he felt about his brother, and how they'd found him. 

They all grabbed a bottle and a chair. Skjor handed him another and he made an attempt to meet their eyes. Trying so hard to meet the icy ones of the one, sitting right in front of him. He only dared a slight glance. 

He knew if he failed to, it would make him look a coward... right now, that's how he felt. Problem was, he really didn't know anything yet. None of them did. It wasn't going to be good.

Vilkas sat back and crossed his arms, waiting for Kodlak to start. Skjor had told them all upon entering the room, that he'd already given Ranulf all their names. Explaining to him who Kodlak was, and who they were, just so there was no confusion. It would make things go faster... smoother, if that was at all possible.

The tension was killing him, he couldn't wait. They needed to get to the bandit camp, see if anyone was still alive. He didn't think that they would dare take the time to go back and gather their things. They wouldn't have wanted to waste the time. By nightfall, they would probably be getting onto a ship.

Their belongings would still be there. Proof!

He spoke up. "I know you all want to know how I'm involved in your brother's injuries." He looked Vilkas in the eye. The only thing keeping his hands steady, was holding onto that bottle. He took another deep breath.

"I was part of a group of bandits, that had taken up residence in the ruins, just northwest of here." He watched Vilkas' expression, how it got more and more menacing with each word.

"A Thalmor, disguised in mage's robes, came to us one night a few weeks ago." As soon as that word came out, all their expressions changed. Even Vilkas'. He continued.

And with every word that passed his lips, he felt more and more like garbage. 

"He offered us a lot of coin, to keep his presence quiet. We ah... we didn't understand that. Why they were hiding what they were." He shook his head, almost as if he was thinking it over to himself. "The rest of them that are here... they don't seem to care who knows. If anything, they're outright with it." He looked down at the bottle, fingering the bit of parchment label that was left on it.

"We also knew that if we weren't quiet about him, he'd kill us... so, we did as he asked." 

He looked up at Skjor, "A little over a week or so ago, maybe two weeks... he caught sight of you... " Glancing over at Vilkas, "And your brother, coming out of an opening in the wall... at night." he licked his lips. "They weren't in the shape of men... at the time."

Vilkas and Kodlak, both stared at Skjor for a moment. Kodlak sat back in the chair, letting out a sharp breath and forced his gaze back onto Ranulf. Once this was done, they'd be having a discussion amongst themselves.

"He stayed hidden, and watched them come back as men. He knew who you were then. Evidently, he'd seen you come and go from the city... heard people talking... so on. He knew you were Companions."

He ran his hands through his blonde hair nervously. "That didn't seem to be of much interest to him... until he saw the Bosmer..." He locked eyes with Vilkas. "He saw her following your brother back, one night. That was when things got... bad."

Ranulf watched as they all exchanged glances. They looked confused. Skjor shook his head, "What interest would Thalmor have with a Bosmer? There are Bosmer all over Skyrim."

"I didn't find out until last night... they thought I was asleep. I listened to them talking, they've known about her for about twelve years or so. They've kept watch for her. When he saw her..." lifting his bottle, he took a drink. "The one that had come to us, got real excited... like he'd found something real special. He got one of our members to get hold of a courier."

He rubbed his forehead, remembering his promise to Jorn. His chest clenched up, his throat tight. "They brought him in, the Thalmor told him to deliver a letter, under mine and another of our members escort."

He looked up to them, each one in turn. "He'd written a letter to his superior. His superior, was staying in Riften... disguised, just like him. Evidently things didn't go so well for him there. So by the time we got to Riften, he'd moved on. We... I mean I, ended up finding him in Ivarstead." 

He took another drink, "I had to kill the bandit that was with me..." 

Vilkas could no longer hold his tongue. A sarcastic laugh shot out of him! "Why am I not surprised! You have no loyalty, even to your own! You take gold, to house those bastards... turn on the ones in your own group!" His voice was getting louder and louder with each word. And Kodlak was getting closer and closer to him. "You'd probably knife your own mother, if there was enough coin in it for you!"

Kodlak's hand shot out to grab his shoulder. He shut up, narrowing his eyes at the piece of trash seated before him! 

Ranulf looked at him, square in the eye. "First off, Vilkas... the Thalmor are untouchable. No one can do anything to them. Anyone that tries... lets just say, the Empire will stand back and let them do whatever they want! We had no choice... second, my orders were to kill the courier, once the letter was delivered! If I hadn't killed her, he would be dead. She would've killed him in a heartbeat... because of me, the boy still lives!"

He looked at Kodlak and Skjor, "I had him hide in an abandoned mine, about an hours ride from Riften. I told him to wait for me there. I was afraid if he was found or seen by another of them, they'd kill him." He ran his hands through his hair again. "He's just a kid... he needs someone looking out for him. Anyway, I delivered the letter."

Kodlak and Skjor both, were starting to look at him in another light. Vilkas on the other hand... was immovable.

"That still doesn't explain, why they would want a Bosmer."

Ranulf looked up at Kodlak, "The only thing I heard, was that she was some sort of gift... for one of the higher ups. Someone named Nelanare. They didn't want her injured." Moving his eyes to Vilkas. "They were afraid that your brother and her would get too friendly. The one kept saying that she had to be kept pure... " He shook his head, "I don't know.. I know it's not good though. They're taking her back to the Isles."

"I'm sorry about the Bosmer... but I'm still waiting to hear about how my brother was hurt! And where you fit in with all that!"

He swallowed. "I thought we would be able to back out of it, once the letter was delivered and his superior came to meet with him. That's what I wanted..." He looked up at Kodlak, "I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to be done with them. I knew they didn't plan to leave any of us alive when it was all said and done."

He tipped the bottle back, draining the last of it. "Anyway... that's not how it worked out. They wanted me to trap her."

His eyes went back to Vilkas. "Well... no trap ended up being used... not for her." his voice almost a whisper.

"Your brother ended up bringing her, right to the spot where I was leading them to look at some old pit traps. He'd taken her up to a cave in the rock face. We left our horses, just on the outskirts of the trees. Along the other side, so that they were out of sight. They used spells, to keep us quiet and invisible to sight and we snuck in. We weren't expecting them to be right there... they just wanted to see the traps."

He clasped his hands... leaning his elbows onto his knees. His forehead came down to rest on his hands. He felt sick, "We heard them talking... I... I accidentally stepped on a twig and she heard me. She stuck her head over the ledge, to see what had made the noise... the one in charge, he used a staff... paralyzed her."

He sat back in the chair... looking at Vilkas. His face pulled into a grimace. "She fell... I ran up and caught her. Your brother screamed her name! And as soon as he leaned over... they hit him! they paralyzed him. He fell..." 

His eyes were welling up again, he ran his hand over his face. Sucking in a breath. "He fell! That's how he was injured. They wanted me to kill him... push him into the pit, to hide the body." 

Instantly, Vilkas was on his feet! His fists clenched... before he could lunge at him, Skjor had a hold of him, holding him back! Ranulf raised his hands up, pushing back into the chair. "The one watching me, turned his back!"

Tears ran down his face, "I pretended to do it... I wanted to talk to your brother... tell him, but I couldn't! They would've heard! I rolled him into it as gently as I could... then, I covered it with branches."

Skjor whispered to Vilkas, calming him... "You need to hear his side... when Farkas wakes, we'll hear what he remembers. Alright?"

Vilkas sat down, huffing air out at him. He turned his head... but he listened. "The spell she was under faded, she got free and attacked the one that was closest... when that happened and they both were occupied, I ran." 

He wanted Vilkas to understand... he had to. Kodlak and Skjor watched, as the bandit pleaded with him... trying to make things right. "I wanted to get help to your brother as soon as possible... I knew he was hurt. I knew they would leave, try to get away unnoticed."

Vilkas remembered being on the outer porch with Eorlund... hearing the screams... watching him run from the woods.

Without uttering a word, he stood and turned... walking toward the doors. He needed to be by his brother. The bandit may have done the right thing, but he wasn't ready to admit that. He couldn't right now.

Ranulf stood up, "Vilkas!"

He stopped. He didn't turn around... he just stood there. Facing the hallway, his back and shoulders rigid.

He needed him to know... "Vilkas, if I hadn't been there... if I hadn't done what I did. They would've killed him. He'd be dead." He took one step forward. "I... I'm sorry, I did everything I could..." 

Vilkas walked out. Ranulf watched, as he turned down one of the short hallways. 


	25. Healing Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas closed his eyes, as she held one hand over the side of his face. The light flowed over him. He was whimpering, gritting his teeth. Tears ran from his eyes, it felt like the whole side of his face was coming apart!
> 
> Vilkas lunged forward, tears running down his cheeks! "It's hurting him!"
> 
> Kodlak grabbed him by the arms, holding him back. "Vilkas! She's helping him!"

**********

By the early morning hours, they had boarded their ship. A smaller to mid-size sailing vessel, that had been awaiting them on the Hjal River. Throwing another potion down the Bosmer's throat, he carried her down below and laid her on a bedroll, chaining her to the wall. Locking the door to the brig, he went to their quarters.

Estormo lay on one of the two beds. His robes ruined, he had gone down to just a breech, bundled up under multiple skins and furs. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and shivering... he had a fever. 

Sorcal sat down on the edge of the bed, one of their guard had brought in fresh water, pouring it into a basin. He dampened a cloth and wrung it out, laying it over his ill comrade's forehead. "You're fighting infection already... I need to see your leg." 

Estormo grimaced, turning his head away. He couldn't look at it. Grasping the edge of the bed, as Sorcal moved his bed coverings aside and removed his already blood soaked bandages. He let out a long breath, holding his hands over the wound once again. Light poured over his thigh, finally after a few minutes, the bleeding had completely stopped. The color around the wound, improved. 

Giving him another remedy for pain, he stood and walked to a make shift alchemy table and began to smash up herbs from his satchel. "It does look better, Estormo. At least now you don't have to worry over losing it." 

After having to change the bandages so often on the road, he had started to worry. He had lost so much blood, his color and the color around the wound had worsened. If he couldn't get the healing to take, he would either die from infection... or he would have to amputate. He feared both, but the latter more. 

He didn't have anywhere near the medical supplies, for that kind of procedure. And if he had to attempt it, the Mer could still die, just from shock or blood loss. Then, there was still no guarantee that infection wouldn't set in. Their mentor and their employer both, had seen numerous Mer, that had died from loss of limb in the war. 

If he made it through this, he was going to receive a good berating, just for all the stress and worry he had put him through!

He turned, sitting down again. He gently filled the wound with the paste and wrapped it with fresh bandages. Now that he was finally reacting positively to the healing, the herbs would keep infection at bay and speed his healing. 

He was missing a fair amount of flesh and muscle. Just a bit further and he would've been able to see bone. He couldn't believe how much she had pulled out of him. 

Even if he could get him healed properly, the scar he would have, would be severe. And just from seeing the wound, he felt that to be a gross understatement. He was going to require therapy and even then, would more than likely walk with a limp.

If he was crippled in any fashion, it would severely limit his capabilities in the order. He definitely wouldn't be coming back here. More than likely, some kind of training position or something that didn't require moving too fast on his legs.

Another thing they would have to answer for. Doing something outside of their scope of responsibility and getting injured because of it. He shook his head, trying to clear the nagging thoughts from it.

Estormo was getting ready to pass out, he could barely keep his eyes open. Pulling the furs back over him, he walked to the other side of the small room and lay down in the bunk.

They would be at the Carth River in just a few hours. Then, they would sail right out through the Solitude Port. As light as their ship was, they should be in the Isles in about four to five days. 

That would give him enough time to try and sort this mess out. Try to come up with something, to keep them from being knocked down in rank. He had enough supplies to keep her lightly doped until then, making her easier to handle. They had raw meat on hand, keeping it cold with frost spells. At least it was something to keep her from wasting away. 

At first, he had been excited.. overjoyed even, at the idea of their mentor being pleased with her capture. Now, he couldn't wait to be rid of her.

Hearing Estormo's light breathing in the next bed, he stretched. Reaching over, he turned down the lantern and closed his eyes.

**********

Skjor had accompanied the bandit to the ruins with two of the whelps. There was no one there. It was empty.

They did find some of the Thalmor's belongings though. Proving his claim, at least. Evidently the other remaining bandits, upon realizing that the Thalmor weren't returning, had hightailed it out of there. Either that, or they left as soon as the Thalmor did with Ranulf.

Ranulf, seemed to think it was the latter. They all knew what was going to happen to them. They took the opportunity they had, and got out. 

Any evidence they found, would be kept until they knew the whole story. Not that they could do anything with the Thalmor's belongings and documents, but Kodlak felt it important to have them. If something happened down the road and the tide turned, these things may be important. For now, they were to stay locked in a chest at the end of Kodlak's bed.

But with the Thalmor having free reign over Skyrim right now, proving that two Thalmor had been here would do nothing. If anything, there could be ramifications for giving them trouble. Even with the fact, that they had attempted to kill a Companion. Vilkas had been absolutely livid! Kodlak and Skjor both agreed though... their own secret, was in jeopardy. They would have no choice, but to keep quiet.

Skjor had set Ranulf up in the whelps quarters for the night. He knew he wanted to get to the Rift, to see if the courier was alright still. But for now, he was to stay put until Farkas was awake and could talk. They wanted to hear what he remembered. If what Farkas remembered, matched what the bandit had told them, Skjor and Kodlak agreed, he would be set free.

If not, if Farkas said in any way, that Ranulf was responsible, he would face charges from Balgruuf. Either way, Vilkas wanted him gone! Just knowing that he was in Jorvaskr, unnerved him. He wouldn't accept him... not until he heard from his own brother's lips, that he had tried to save him, would he.

Hrongar was gone on a job further away for his brother. He still didn't know anything about this. Skjor knew, as protective as he had been over her... no one, least of all him, was ready to tell him. He had stopped by the Huntsman, on the way back from the ruin, filling the two Bosmer brothers in. To say they had been upset, was putting it lightly.

Both of them had escaped their homeland, as just teens. Coming here to get away from the Thalmor... from the war. They had lost much. And still sent funds home to family members that remained in Valenwood. 

Now, for such a horrendous injustice as this to happen right here.

Anoriath had almost broken down, looking at his brother, tears in his eyes. "When will we ever be safe, Elrindir?" 

His brother, putting his hands onto Anoriath's shoulders. He looked at Skjor... lowering his voice to a whisper. Almost as if he was afraid to be heard in his own shop. "Something must be done! For them to have free reign... with the Empire's backing... I fear for us all!" 

Ranulf had stood next to him, turning away and wiping his tunic sleeve across his face. He felt the same... Gods! He hated to get involved in all this, but the Bosmer were right. Who could deny, that what was happening was wrong.

**********

He lay in a cot, next to his brother's bed. Potions lined the nightstand... at the ready. After long hours of watching over him and replacing the cloth on this face and head... he had finally passed out. 

He woke with a start, looking around the room. Still dark, he realized it must still be before dawn. The fire's glow, casting shadows in the room. He had been out cold... he couldn't remember when he had slept so sound. It had to be all the stress. Everything that had happened, had wiped them all out.

He stood and stretched, the cloth needed changing. He reached over and lifted it off, and Farkas opened his eyes.

"Farkas!" He immediately rushed to light lanterns. Then burst out of the doors, yelling down the hall that he was awake! He came back in and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his brother's good hand.

Now, taking a moment to look in his face... at his eyes, with the light. He thought he would be sick.

The right side of his face, was a mottled black and blue, with deep crimson red and purplish marks here and there. And it was swollen. Especially around his cheek. His right eye was blood red. So much so, that he was having a hard time, seeing if the pupil was doing what the other was.

Just seeing him like this, he wanted to weep. And When he was done weeping, he wanted to go on a killing spree!

Farkas just stared at him as the room filled with people. Kodlak, Skjor and Tilma ran in, all in their night clothes... hair mussed, wiping sleep from their eyes. Skjor, shut the doors against the whelps, telling them it was alright and to go back to quarters. He moved the cot away and sat in the chair opposite the bed.

Tilma couldn't even speak, tears already flowing down her face. Partly from the fact that he looked the way he did and part, just happiness that he was finally awake.

His eyes took everyone in, as Kodlak leaned over him. "Farkas... We're all here boy. It's going to be alright."

The old man's voice was strained. He was struggling, but knew they all needed to be strong for him. 

He tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat were so dry. He tried to lick his lips, his voice croaking out, sounding hoarse. "Hurts...."

Even grimacing against the pain, hurt. Tears rolled down his face. Vilkas' hold on his hand tightened. 

Skjor ran a hand down over his face, looking away, trying to catch his own tears and get himself under control. 

Tilma took a pain and healing potion from the table, "Vilkas, try to hold him up some, so he can swallow these. He'll need some water... he's bound to be thirsty." Farkas nodded, best he could. He was parched.

Skjor got up and pushed his way out, "I'm getting Danica... it's almost light out." The way that eye looked, he wanted her there. If Farkas wasn't alright... he didn't know what they would do. He almost feared for the bandit now.

Passing by the whelps quarters, it was empty, all except for Ranulf. Evidently, the rest had gone upstairs, leaving him alone. He could only imagine, that it hadn't been an easy night for him either. The whelps all knew he was involved in some way, to what had happened to Farkas. They knew he had been a bandit. The tension in the room, was still noticeable. 

He sat on a bed, hands clasped, looking down at the floor.

He paused, "He's awake. Just thought you should know... it might be awhile before he can talk, so... I guess just get something to eat from the kitchen and stay down here for now." He nodded, but stayed silent.

Skjor left. He couldn't even think about food. He felt sick. What he wanted, was to hear that the boy was going to be alright. That's all that mattered to him... and getting back to Jorn. With everything that had happened, if he wasn't safe... if something had happened to him, he didn't know how he'd take it. 

He couldn't even think about the Bosmer. Every time he did, his insides twisted up.

***********

Skjor accompanied her into Jorvaskr, but stayed outside the room. There was enough bodies in there and he'd let loose enough tears, between when they found him and now to last him awhile. He knew if he went in there, seeing Farkas the way he was... he just wouldn't be able to handle it.

The boy needed strength, not seeing everyone shedding tears. That was an excuse... he knew it too. 

He also knew that their guest, would not see to his own needs out of his own shame. He headed to the kitchen. He'd scare them both up some breakfast and some mead. 

He had found a jug of rum. Smiling to himself, 'He'd be saving that for when the boy was well enough to drink. Then he'd warm it, with some butter and clove.' That'd definitely do the trick.

They all moved aside for the priestess to come in. Standing back to watch, as she sat on the edge of the bed. Casting a bright light from her palm, so she could see better. She spoke low to him. "Farkas... can you see alright, out of your right eye?" Gently, she laid her hand over his left eye. 

His voice was soft, low... it looked painful for him to talk. "Yeah... but hurts." 

She nodded, uncovering his left eye. The hovering light, moved closer. She looked into both of his eyes. "Your cheek bone is broke, Farkas. Your face and head, are very badly bruised. I'm going to heal just this area some more now, then you'll see me again in two days."

Vilkas bolted up from the chair, throwing his hand out toward his brother. "Two days! Look at him!"

Kodlak raised his hand, trying to calm him. He knew seeing his brother suffering, was keeping him riled. "Vilkas, he'll have potions till then. They will help. He needs rest, nourishment. His body will take over the healing."

He stood back, hands on his hips, looking at his brother. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. 

Farkas closed his eyes, as she held one hand over the side of his face. The light flowed over him. He was whimpering, gritting his teeth. Tears ran from his eyes, it felt like the whole side of his face, was coming apart!

No where near the feeling of when he transformed. But then, his body let loose its own protection, shielding him from the worst of it. That's what Skjor said anyway. That's how they could handle such a massive physical transformation, without being in agony.

Vilkas lunged forward, tears running down his face! "It's hurting him!"

Kodlak grabbed him by the arms, holding him back! "Vilkas! She's helping him!"

Danica remained calm. Giving him another potion for pain and swelling, she stood to give room to Tilma. Who had brought him in broth and water.

She motioned for Vilkas and Kodlak to come out into the hallway with her. Once the doors were shut, she turned to them. Vilkas ran an arm over his face, wiping it dry. "He's having pain during healing because the cheek bone is reforming. This is why, Vilkas... I can only heal every other day or so. His body needs time to do it's own work." 

Vilkas nodded, letting out a deep breath. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand... I really do. But his pain will get better. The small veins in his eye have ruptured. That's why it's red. You're seeing the blood that's underneath. It will heal and get better as well. He's going to be alright. Right now, he needs rest. Everything you all are doing, is what he needs." She patted him and turned, walking down the hallway to the doors.

Vilkas looked after her, his eyes moving toward the whelps quarters. Tears escaped, rolling down his cheeks. He let out a deep breath, feeling Kodlak's hand on his shoulder. His voice shaky... "I want revenge Kodlak! I want the ones responsible to pay!"

He had never wanted to kill someone so badly in his life! Not ever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows... the whelps mentioned, are not the whelps in the game. Remember, the twins are about 18 here. Once we go to current Skyrim time, they'll be 23 or so. They may be older than that in the game, but that's how old they will be here.
> 
> I'm thinking that the whelps in the game, have only been with them a short time. Maybe a year or two at best. Those ones will be joining after Aela and they will only be mentioned, until time moves forward to current Skyrim time. Then, they will play very small roles here and there.
> 
> *Also, I don't think I've ever seen Rum in the game, but being that this is my story, I'm adding it.*


	26. The Pain of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could hear Skjor's lowered voice, harsh... hurt and angry all at once. "Vilkas! You only understand the love you have for those here, around you! You have never loved a woman! And until you have, and you've lost that... you won't understand what he's feeling! I've lost someone Vilkas. And I can tell you, I would rather suffer through anything... anything! Than face that kind of pain again! You have to be here for him! He needs us, all of us... to get through this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Try to keep in mind that the twins are around 18 here. Just recently turned. So not the more seasoned warriors that they seem to be in the game and definitely not seasoned in matters of the heart.
> 
> Also in my version of this, Nazeem and his wife, do not sleep in the Huntsman. They have their own place, which only seems right. Especially being that they are farm owners and he's so highfalutin. In this story, the brothers live there and they rent a room to Jenassa. {Who I personally think, is simply bad ass!}

*************

For two days, when he wasn't sleeping from the potions, he was staring off into the wall, weeping silently. It hurt too much to talk. Even after she came to heal him, he wasn't going to want to deal with it.

Skjor had come in and sat with him, giving his brother a break. He could tell Vilkas was getting tired already, from seeing his tears fall. He was angry over what had been done, but only to him. He didn't care about Sunnabe.

He had heard him out in the hallway, last night with Skjor. He'd gotten loud, the whole time, Skjor, trying to shut him up.

He could hear his brother, pacing back and forth in front of his door. He had tired of his tears. He was angry. Hearing him practically spit the words out at Skjor. "It's her fault that this happened! We _all_ tried to tell him! She was no good for him, he had no business even being with her! She was nothing more than a damned animal! If he hadn't had anything to do with her, our secret wouldn't be known and he wouldn't be laying in there right now! So messed up..."

He could tell just by hearing the movement, that Skjor had taken hold of him, cutting him off. He had taken hold of him to shut him up!

He could hear Skjor's lowered voice, harsh... hurt and angry all at once. "Vilkas! You only understand the love you have for those here, around you! You have never loved a woman! And until you have, and you've lost that... you won't understand what he's feeling! I've lost someone Vilkas. And I can tell you, I would rather suffer through anything... anything! Than face that kind of pain again. You have to be here for him! He needs us, all of us... to get through this."

That just made him feel all the more, like he had to defend her. Defend his feelings for her. It had also made him glad, that when his door opened that it was Skjor and not his brother. He didn't need anymore to be piled on right now.

Skjor also knew how it felt, the need to feel free. The beast blood gave them that. They both took to it like naturals. To have the capability, to leave the troubles and worries of this life behind... to run and be as one with all the wilds. That's what he would've had with her. Skjor had sat there watching, as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He spoke low... it hurt, but he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"She was the one... Skjor.... " His chest hitched, eyes closing against the pain, so horrible he felt the need to just cry out! "She was the one... the only one, that I could've been both with. She understood me... and now..." His good hand, coming up to his head. "What're they doin to her... Oh Gods! what're they doin to her!"

He had cried... sobbed, like he hadn't since he was little. The pain was so great... it was killing him. He just wanted her back. If she had died, he would've known he could eventually heal. But not knowing... not ever knowing what was happening to her, whether she was alive. What she was suffering...

Skjor had cried right along with him. He could feel his pain... feel it, as if it were his own. He knew if he ever was fortunate enough to find that kind of love again, he would embrace it... nothing would stand between him and that kind of bond again. He and his mate, they would run... they would hunt together. In this life and the next!

He grieved for Farkas' loss.

Now he wished they had the totems. That would be another of his goals. He would pray to Hircine for Farkas... and for his love. That one day they would be reunited. Hircine would take pity... he had to. For two of his children to find each other... to know that kind of love, then for it to just be torn away.

There had to be retribution!

************

From what Skjor had said the day before, she was alive, but she had been taken. By Thalmor. Finding that out, just made him all the more bitter.

The fact that they had her... they fucking had her! His mind flew to all the most horrible things that his imagination could conjure up. Why would they want her? The pain in his heart, was a hundred times that of his other injuries.

She was gone... and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no one, that they would answer to for what they had done. All of it! Made him so savagely furious, that he just wanted to go on a rampage! But to what avail? It would all be for naught.

Just the fact that they could come here, and take another living being! To do with, whatever they pleased! And they all had no choice, but to come cowering home like dogs with their tails between their legs.

Skjor told him they had been seen, coming to and from the underforge, as man and wolf. Even with them being Companions, with their secret hanging in the balance, they could say nothing. Lest the whole city be in jeopardy.

He reminded him of the statue out front... the fact that Balgruuf knew of their secret as well. But just the statue alone, would be enough for the Thalmor to have Balgruuf in irons. He knew the rules of the Concordat... even if he had it torn down, he could still face charges for keeping it hidden and allowing the worship to take place.

He understood. He didn't want anything to happen to their Jarl or anyone else. But blast the statue! He didn't care about Talos! He didn't have a problem with those that that did. Each race, each person... should have the freedom to worship as they saw fit. No one was being hurt by it.

But most of them at Jorvaskr didn't hold in a lot for the Gods. Pretty much, it was Vignar that put his thoughts out on the table.

What he cared about was honor, integrity... honesty and justice! The Gods could be damned for all he cared right now! He wanted them to pay! He wanted her back...

Just remembering how she had opened up to him, just in that short time. She needed him, she needed life around others. She needed love. Remembering how she had smiled at him. She thought it was funny that he couldn't climb as fast as her. Coming close to laughing at him. And how much he had wanted to just hold her... hug her. Just be with her.

Then he remembered how she had acted, when he said her name aloud. His heart... oh by Shor! how it made his heart ache... she knew... she knew that something was wrong.

Then, hearing the one of them that had her! He had laid there, unable to even fucking swallow! listening to him talk to her. Knowing, she couldn't move...

Damn the consequences! If he ever found them... he would rip them apart!

He knew that after Danica healed him today, he would have to talk to the bandit that had helped him. Part of him wanted to meet him proper. Thank him for what he'd done. If it weren't for him, he'd be layin dead in that pit. Most of him didn't want to. The Nord knew more than he did. He knew more than Skjor had told him. He was afraid to know more.

Her being alive... and having no one to protect her... no one that cared.

*************

He stopped at the Huntsman when he got into the gates. He needed a drink and some breakfast... he was tired. The brothers always seemed to put him in good spirits. Good company did that.

Unfortunately, good spirits, wasn't what he was going to get. He could literally feel the tension in the air, when he walked in. Elrindir wasn't at the counter yet.

"They're upstairs..." Jenassa's soft, deep voice, startling him. She was always so quiet, most of the time he forgot she was even there.

He nodded to her, and walked up. Just seeing them, sitting around the table, faces long. He felt like he was at a wake. That worried him...

**********

As Danica was leaving, Kodlak and Skjor led the man in that saved him. He could hear Vilkas stomping up the stairs... all the way at the other end of the hallway. He was angry that he wasn't going to be allowed in. Farkas understood. He needed to hear what the man had to say, without the tension Vilkas would add to the room.

He choked down more potions, chasing them with water to rid himself of the bitter taste. Letting out a deep breath, what he wouldn't give for a bottle of mead. Skjor had promised him something special, after he was able. Something to look forward to. If he could drink right now... he'd be drunk all the time. Anything to numb the pain he felt.

Propped up with pillows, he listened. Watching Ranulf agonize over his own memories of what had taken place. The only gratification was knowing she had possibly disabled one of them. That still wasn't enough! They deserved more... worse.

Shaking his head... "What do they want with her? Why would they go through so much, for a Bosmer?"

Ranulf ran his hand through the scruff of beard, he was allowing to grow back. Blowing out a deep breath. "I don't know... they just said they'd been looking for her, for about twelve years now... and that she had to be kept pure."

He closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks... His voice was choked. "Why..."

"Because they're the bastards, that killed her parents!"

Everyone turned in shock, Hrongar was standing in the doorway. His face full of grief. His eyes were red rimmed, "I was just at the Huntsman."

Giving a glance in Ranulf's direction, then back to Farkas. "I hate to say this Farkas, but you need to know. Elrindir and Anoriath both feel that she was orphaned at a very young age, went feral surviving. If they've been looking for her for that long. The only reason they would know about her, was if they're the ones did it! They want her pure..." His own voice, now choked with emotion. "Because she'll fetch a better price, unspoiled!"

Farkas turned his head, his entire body shook! "No! Gods no... " He sucked in a breath and let out a cry. Skjor was up, laying a hand to his shoulder.

He took a minute, "By Shor I've never wanted a drink so bad... "

Wiping his hand over his face. Physically, he felt a lot better, but still had at least another week of recovery... then training time on top of that, just to get his right hand back. Then, he wasn't to do any jobs alone for awhile. He let out a long breath. The man deserved his freedom... more than that. He wouldn't mind having him at his back if they'd a mind to offer it. He didn't want to put the Old Man on the spot though.

Looking at Ranulf, then to Kodlak and Skjor. "He saved me... and he was cryin the whole time." He looked Ranulf in the eye. "There ain't no weakness in it neither. What you did... riskin your own to save mine. I don't have no problem sayin, you're the reason I'm here breathing. I thank you."

Ranulf grabbed his good hand, squeezing it. His own eyes welled up. He didn't feel worthy, but hearing him say that... it meant everything. "There are no words Farkas... no words."

He turned to Kodlak and Skjor, "All of this.. even as painful as it was, has been a lesson to me. I'm not the man I was. If you ever need any help... anything."

They both stood, Skjor and Kodlak exchanged glances... they had talked it over last night. Vilkas wouldn't be too happy over it at first, but they both thought he would warm up to the idea in time. Kodlak took his arm. "What would you say to joining us..."

**********

Squatting down, he rested his bottom on his heels, his elbows on his knees. And looked at her. She was awake, not fully... but enough, coming out of the state she had been in. She had evidently had enough mental alertness to use the bucket, while he was sleeping. His face wrinkled up at the smell. He would have one of his guard handle it. There was no way he would ever lower himself to such duties.

Chained by the wrists and neck, a bucket of fresh water had been placed near enough to her, that she could drink. Still weaving about like a drunkard, she lowered her face to it... lapping at it like an animal. Her braids fell into it, as she wobbled back and forth. If he had his way, that mess would be cut. Of course, he had no say... Nelanare would have him whipped if he ruined her in any way.

His upper lip twitched in disgust, as he pushed a plate of raw meat toward her. Falling back against the wall, she turned her head... letting out a cry. Tears rolled down her dirty face, leaving trails in their wake. He chuckled... "Your wolf still lives Sunnabe!"

He knew it to be a lie... she didn't however. She looked up to him, her little face crunched up in pain. "We know where he is... and if you value his life, you will do as you are told. Now eat!"

She bared her teeth at him and hissed, straining against the chains. "You will learn to speak Sunnabe... you will learn to do what is expected of you, if you don't... I will capture him and I will skin him alive!"

She lunged forward, the chains roughly halting her, tugging sharply at her neck and arms. An ear splitting scream erupted from her! He could hear the guard on deck, scrambling to get below. It sounded like they had a damned Sabre on board! He stood and backed away, laughing. "You don't frighten me! You are no better than an animal! And you shall be used as one!"

She could hear the others running for the door. Before he could even move, she reached into the chamber bucket and filled her hands with her own feces, throwing it at him!

He screamed! Jumping back it was too late, his robes were splattered! His face full of disgust. He shrieked out! "UHHHG!!! YOU FILTHY, WRETCHED BITCH!!"

She turned toward the wall, as green light engulfed her. She lay there... feeling them as they cleaned her up. Listening to him curse and scream at her. If she could've smiled, she would have. He thought she was an animal. If that's what he thought... that's what he would get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get confused over the Totems. I'm not switching anything up where that is concerned. It's coming.


	27. Reflecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had only mentioned her wolf once, on the first day. He hadn't threatened, the way the fools who had captured her had. He asked her if she wanted to see him again. She shook her head no. Of course the fact that she gave him such a quick response pleased him, he would have preferred she speak.
> 
> He asked her why... her big eyes had welled up, brows gathering... he finished for her. "He is dead, isn't he Sunnabe."
> 
>  
> 
> He looked her right in the eye, as she nodded to him, "I will never lie to you Sunnabe. Never..."
> 
> He may withhold the truth, but he would never lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be several chapters that will go over things happening to Sunnabe and things happening in Skyrim/Jorvaskr, some or all will be combined, I haven't made up my mind yet- prior to moving to current Skyrim time. There will be gaps of time taking place, simply because it's a five year window. Some things not mentioned right away, will be reflected upon at later points in the story.

***********

Nelanare sipped on his wine as he watched her sleep. Thinking over the last two days, he opened his journal. He often would sit in the evening and reflect upon the days events, even after making notes all day. There was always something he would think about and remember later. The lanterns were out, the only light was the candle on his table. Just enough to write by, but not enough to bother her rest.

She was already growing accustomed to him and her new surroundings, after just two days. A very fast learner.

The warm ocean breeze flowed in through the windows, blowing her hair about... she was beautiful. More than worth the wait. Setting down the goblet and inking the quill, he began to write.

The Elders wanted a full history, every method used in her training. This would not be a problem... as most of them were already aware, he was more than meticulous in his record keeping. In fact, there were a great many, that awaited the results of the little one's progress. As well as being able to observe the final result, prior to her placement.

One of the Elders from the oldest bloodline, a great and dear friend of his, had stopped by to see her. He wanted to see the one, that had near lamed one of their own. See her, prior to any change being made. Needless to say, he had been amazed.

If he was capable of producing what they needed from this... this wild creature. They would be prepared to double the pay originally agreed upon. He had smiled at his old friend, shaking his hand. As if he had any doubt. And they did not... in their eyes, he was the worker of miracles. The papers would be prepared. Now, they simply waited for the finished product. And they would be patient, they had time...

Smiling again as he thought it over... so not only was he to be paid by the buyers, but he would be receiving handsome recompense for his efforts from the Elders and Council members as well. This would more than satisfy his needs for the remainder of his retirement.

Until he received another request anyway, he liked to keep busy.

Just being who he was, the fact that many of their elite, owed their skills to his expertise and training. Doubled with the fact that royal blood, flowed in his veins. He held a certain amount of sway, over those in command. Only after getting Estormo's written consent, to be used as a training tool, had he agreed to speak to their Thalmor superiors, releasing them both from punishment. Of course, that hadn't really been necessary.

They had no real use for Estormo anymore. And as soon as he saw the effect he had on her, well... he knew what purpose he would serve.

Of course, he wouldn't be told... just like the buyers wouldn't. Neither himself nor Sorcal, had any idea, what she was being used for. What their plans for her encompassed. Sunnabe herself, would never really know. Even after the deeds were done.

They watched the family... watching as they trained their son in private, getting every final detail in place. The Elders and Council Members, seeing through their lies. He wouldn't be ready for quite some time yet, just like her. And he would be detained, until she was.

He would not need Sorcal at all. He didn't seem to have the same effect on her, that Estormo did. Even as hesitant as he had been to sign, Estormo knew the punishment he would face for their foul up, would be much worse. He reluctantly did so, seeing Sorcal walk away from the situation, unscathed. Sorcal was a responsible spy... he would still serve them well. He had simply been placed with the wrong partner.

His thoughts coming back to her... he picked up the goblet and sipped his wine, taking her in. Right now, except for the leather collar around her neck, she was completely bare. Curled up on furs, her long hair, being used as a blanket, she almost resembled a cat... curled up with it's tail wrapped around it.

And she was to be kept bare for now. Not only was the weather here so much warmer, but it would take her time to learn without being corrected in the fashion that he would have to resort to for now. There would be no need for clothing until she resembled something civilized. He also wanted her to feel comfortable around him naked. No one else, but his servants and his counterpart, would see her this way of course.

His servants were all female and male Altmer. They would be helping him in his endeavor with her as well. She would not be allowed time alone with another Bosmer, until she left to be with her new owner, _after_ placement. He wanted her to only know and connect with his people. She would have no one of her own race that she could seek for pity... sympathy.

He had begun her lessons, by teaching her to simply obey his commands.

Then, there would be many physical demands. Her body would have to be retrained, to stand upright. This in itself, would be painful at first.

Over the years, she had trained her muscles and ligaments, to be in a crouched position. Of course, when her training was complete, she would only go into that position under certain circumstances. Her body would then, be more pliable, more flexible. She would be taught to eat cooked meat. And eventually, a wide variety of foods. He had already ran into that... he found that using raw meat as a reward, he could get her to do more.

Just like today... for every bite of cooked meat she took, she got a bite of raw. At first it had taken quite some time just to get her to eat. But, she was to understand who her ruler was, and that he had only so much patience.

He had a cage that sat in the corner. It was very small.. so small in fact, that she couldn't move once inside of it. This was to be the worst of her punishments for disobedience. There of course would be other methods he would use, but this was going to be the worst.

She loathed any type of confinement... hated it. As he had seen today. After spending just a few minutes in the cage, she was ready to comply. And he made sure, that it was always within her view. She could see it, and she knew what would happen if she didn't listen.

She was learning. Of course he knew how smart she was... the real training, the majority, would be her mind. Molding her into what they wanted.

He had only mentioned her wolf once, on the first day. He hadn't threatened, the way the fools who had captured her had. He asked her if she wanted to see him again. She shook her head no. Of course the fact that she gave him such a quick response pleased him, he would have preferred she speak. He asked her why... her big eyes had welled up, brows gathering, he finished for her. "He is dead, isn't he Sunnabe."

He looked her right in the eye, as she nodded. "I will never lie to you Sunnabe. Never..." 

He may withhold the truth, but he would never lie.

The look that came over her face was one of gratitude. She may not be in the position she desired, but at least she wouldn't be lied to. She could trust him. And she would. After awhile, she would look to him as mentor, as well as caretaker and owner. Even for comfort she would turn to him, giving them both what they needed. Until his counterpart became a real part of her life anyway.

In time she would forget she ever knew the Companion. She would become something different. Scrawling another note into the journal, he took a drink.

Once the basics were learned, he would begin on language, self composure and control. Just watching her sleep, he was in awe. Periodically she would stretch out, moving into a new position.

He had done much study into what exactly he wanted her taught. What would be essential, for what they planned to use her for.

She was to be well versed in at least three separate languages. Her own Bosmeris language, Aldmeris and Nordic. All of which he knew, she had knowledge of. He was certain, she knew some of all the tongues that roamed Skyrim. An understanding of Dunmeris and Orsimer would be helpful as well. As he taught her, he would find out just how much she already knew. Right now the key was to unlock it.

She had been silent for so long, he didn't want her to lose that either. It made her especially deadly. She would be silent, taking in all that was said around her. And she would understand it all... she would be the silent killer... unnoticed.

She would be taught control. To be aware of all around her, and yet, oblivious to distraction when it was necessary. He knew she was well versed in hand to hand, as well as archery. All of her talents, once carefully honed, would make her extremely deadly.

Just thinking about that, he smiled to himself. Taking a sip of wine, he scratched another note in.

She would be taught cleanliness, how to be well kempt. The way any decent female should be. The ways of civility... and yet, retain her natural instincts. She would be able to survive in the wild, then have the ability to walk into a city and live like any other.

She would eventually be taught to cook and to attend to the needs of her owner, to service him... if that was his choosing. Of course, with the Altmer in question's upbringing, he doubted he would use her as such. He was a fool! Even with all the training his family was investing in, without her as a follower, he doubted he would last a single night. He pushed thoughts of the distant future away.

He wouldn't wish the time away, simply to see the idiot's demise and be proven correct. There was much more than that at stake here. A much bigger picture.

Quietly letting out a deep breath... he definitely had his work cut out for him.

Closing his journal, he took out a separate piece of parchment. He would send a note to him... now that he knew she was here, he had been most desperate to see her. It had been imperative at first, that he be kept away. She had been extremely volatile her first day there. After her capture and the disturbing things that had taken place... knowing the two that had taken her, had killed her love. She had wanted blood!

Even though he held her captive, collared her... chained her, she didn't connect him with them... with those events. And after the first day, not seeing them, she had calmed. His partner in this would not be present, on days that she struggled. She was not to connect him, with any unpleasantry. In fact, after awhile seeing him, would be seen as a reward for her achievements. She would strive harder... do more, just in attempt to see him.

But even with that, her place would never be forgotten. She would be taught that her role in her eventual owner's life, was key. She would be there to keep him alive. She was essential and she would believe him to be as well. It would be seen as a duty. And thus, having to leave them... her desire for his partner would not dissuade her, she would not loath her new owner and what lay ahead.

Even though she was his property, she would see the departure as freedom. She would crave any chance she had to spill blood for his sake. She would feel excitement.. a rush, each time she overtook an enemy. Challenging herself, testing herself with every opportunity she had! And she would feel great pride in the use of her skills and talents.

And as much as Nelanare despised him, he would know that Lorundiil, being in the heart of those savage lands, would be able to rest easy knowing that as long as she was with him... as long as she had his back, he was safe. He would have nothing to fear! A wicked smile came to his lips... it mattered not, as long as their goals were accomplished. Lorundiil would play a part and be completely oblivious to his involvement. Until it was too late.

Just thinking over it, had gifted him with an epiphany. He opened his journal to scrawl in one last note for the evening. 'In time, her combat skills could be practiced upon their captive enemies.' Then the Elders would get a taste of what she was actually capable of.

Tomorrow he would get a verbal response from her. After he finished with this note, he would send one to Estormo. He would be in need of his assistance.

A quiet chuckle escaping his lips, he dipped the quill...

***********

Ranulf had been more than honored by Kodlak's offer. In fact, so much so, that he had about dropped to his knees in heartfelt thanks. He would definitely take his offer. But he wanted to take two weeks to get things in order.

Kodlak understood. That would give them the time they needed, to go over it with Vilkas. Not one of them was looking forward to that. It wouldn't be too hard to make the other whelps understand. The only ones there, that hadn't had a taste of the other side of life, the darker side... were the twins. They had been raised there. Everyone else had a darker side to their past. And they had overcome it.

The whelps would understand. This man, in the face of pure evil... when he could've embraced those that pulled the strings, sinking lower and lower. Had made different choices, the right choices... even when it put his own life at risk. And he'd done it to save others. Those that by all rights, meant nothing to him.

And in Farkas' case, he had saved a man, that given different circumstances, would've ended his life in a heartbeat. Just for being the bandit he was. Farkas, even being the age he was, had killed many. No... Vilkas was probably going to be the only one, that would give them any amount of grief over it.

Farkas bid him farewell. He had already started to feel a kinship with the man, much to his brother's chagrin of course. They had what had happened as a bind between them. Ranulf understood his grief and they would help each other get through it. Waiting for his return, would give him something to look forward to. He should be completely healed by then and they would be able to spar together.

And now that they knew Jorn was the courier that had been involved, they were excited to see his safe return. The boy had been well known throughout their hold and he was well liked. Kodlak had even offered him a whelp to travel with him. Ranulf had only shook his head. "No... I need to do this on my own. I thank you..."

He needed to go over things with the boy... they would need time together. And he doubted anyone there, would understand the scope of their relationship. Hrongar had spoken to Farengar, getting him acquainted with the situation. He agreed, that he could use an apprentice... depending on whether or not, the boy had any skill. At least they could see each other every day or so and he would know Jorn was safe. In time, maybe the lad would come to his senses and find someone his own age. If not, well... time would tell.

Tilma packed his knapsack, Skjor gave him a bedroll and in his borrowed clothing and armor, he set off. Even with all the debt he owed them, he was truly a free man. For the first time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ranulf and Jorn will kind of start to fade into the background a little. Both of them will be mentioned here and there, especially Ranulf. But they have served their main purpose.


	28. I Have Waited So, So Long...  {Part One}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stared down at the floor... he _knew_ he should feel grateful. He should feel thankful that he had shelter, that he had employment of any kind.
> 
> But he couldn't! Not only was he completely filled with rage and resentment! He was jealous! Envious! He wanted what Ancano would be getting... what he would have!

You're sick of feeling numb  
You're not the only one  
I'll take you by the hand  
And I'll show you a world, that you can understand  
This life is filled with hurt  
When happiness doesn't work  
Trust me and take my hand  
When the lights go out, you will understand  


***********

Crumbling the note within his fist, his lips curling back in disgust! Estormo paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, before finally throwing it into the fire. 

"It is your own fault, you know..."

Whirling around at the sound of his mentor's voice. Ancano stood at the entrance to his apartment. His lean figure, leaning against the framework. Without waiting for an invitation, he walked in and sat before the fire, pouring himself some wine. 

Estormo knew he could say nothing against him or his actions. He was the only reason he had a home. Having been gracious enough to let him use a vacant apartment on his estate, that was normally set aside for guests. He had even finished healing him. Even though he walked with a slight limp now, when he was done with the therapy Ancano's personal servant was giving him, he wouldn't even have that.

He stared down at the floor... he _knew_ he should feel grateful. He should feel thankful that he had shelter, that he had employment of any kind. But he couldn't! Not only, was he completely filled, with rage and resentment... he was jealous! Envious! He wanted what Ancano would be getting... what he would have!

Ancano would have her. He would be her comfort, he would be her reward... he would aid Nelanare, in teaching her the ways of pleasure. And... he would be just one, out of many eyes and ears, that reported back on her and Lorundiil's doings, once she was placed. 

While _he_ would be used as a tool. A training tool, to teach her control! The whole time, her wanting to rip his throat out! His pride was destroyed... his position, that he had trained so hard for, gone. 

He hadn't even been able to seek employment elsewhere. Everyone would know of his failure! He could barely show his face, without the shame all but consuming him. Nelanare had stepped right in and of course, sparing him from the punishment that no doubt he had probably deserved. But that in it's own way was condemnation!

Once this was over, he would be lucky to serve as Ancano's lackey!

He looked into the fire... his fists clenched to the point, that his nails cut into the flesh of his palms! If he could've had her before, he would have been gentle. He wouldn't have had a choice, lest Nelanare kill him.

But now... now, what he wanted to do... was chain her to the ground! Chain her to the ground and use her! Use every orifice she had, until she bled! His teeth clenched until his jaw ached just thinking about it! He wanted her to bleed! He wanted her to beg him! He longed for it! 

Then... he would cut her throat. That act alone, would make him cum. His hot seed would fill her, as he watched the lifeblood flow out of her, all over the ground. Feeling her body go limp, as all the fight left her. He would stay inside of her and feel the change from within... the same way he had felt her mother's.

He would be the last thing she saw... the last thing, as the light left her eyes.

He had waited so, so long for her... only for any little bit he would've been given, to be swept away.... completely swept away. By her! All because of her!

Ancano sat, watching him fume. "All your grousing over the situation is useless Estormo. Sit... have some of this, and relax until tomorrow. If you conduct yourself properly while in his employ, and show that you are trustworthy, I will speak with him about your reinstatement before I leave."

Estormo sat down next to him, watching him prepare the opium in the water pipe. Downing his glass of wine, he poured them both another. They would need it after smoking. This was the only thing that seemed to really soothe him, and take the edge off.

This, and a compliant submissive, that he could do whatever he wanted with... male or female, it made no difference. Even then, he liked to smoke afterwards. He knew he had peculiar likes when it came to pleasure. He wasn't the only one in the order, that had needs that had to be kept hushed. 

"That is years from now... who knows how long it will take to prepare her!"

He cringed inwardly, as Ancano's most expressive eyebrow shot up in disapproval. Wiping the stickiness off his hands with a damp cloth. "You dare to complain to me! After all I have done for you!"

Looking down into his goblet, even in his anger his chest clenched up. "Forgive me... you know I appreciate everything you have done... I really do."

Ancano sniffed, snapping his fingers to light it. He inhaled... ribbons of the sweet, aromatic smoke, wafted into the air around them. He held it in while he talked, passing the mouth piece to his subordinate. "If you do well tomorrow..." He blew the smoke out. "I will have another soother waiting here for you when you are done. Something to take your frustrations out on." 

Estormo exhaled, taking a drink of wine. His face breaking into a wide smile, "Really?" 

Reaching up, his long fingers moving the hair that had fallen into his face, behind his ear. Both barefooted, wearing only light, silken pants... shirts left open. He shouldn't complain. Things were much more relaxed here than at the Thalmor barracks, where his previous quarters had been. And Ancano kept him supplied.

Taking another hit, "I need him alive when you're done. No injury too severe, that it cannot be healed! And do not ruin the bedding!"

Estormo laughed... taking the mouth piece. "So, he belongs to someone else?" 

Sniffing again, Ancano took a drink. "He actually paid to be with you... and yes, he belongs to someone else. He has needs similar to yours, and he has a hard time keeping them met. I will have your share of the coin tomorrow after you are done with him."

He giggled, showing brilliant white teeth! "He paid you... for me? Oooh, I can't wait!" Exhaling the last of it, he thought about tomorrow and wondered what the male would look like... what race he would be. He knew Ancano wouldn't want to give anything away that would spoil the surprise for him. 

After a few minutes, he couldn't even think about that.

The pipe now extinguished, they both sat back, watching the fire... listening to the waves in the distance. He would be lucky if he made it to bed, the exquisite drug making him so relaxed, he felt he could almost float. 

Every care he had... was gone.

************

Having been bathed by a female servant, her hair done in one single braid down her back. Her nails and toenails neatly manicured. She was ready.

Even though he wasn't putting a lot on her, just the fact that he was dressing her, earned him a confused look. He was dressing her, simply because of _who_ would be present. He _knew_ Estormo wanted her. And she was going to be uncomfortable enough with him being there. Keeping her bare, would only unnecessarily add to it.

He spoke low to her, but looked her in the eye. "You will have a guest this morning Sunnabe. He will be aiding us in our morning lesson." Her brows gathered but she remained silent, keeping her body loose, letting him do what he needed to.

They had eaten more than two hours ago. He didn't want her stomach to be riled when they were done. Simply getting her to eat, was a lesson all of it's own. Every normal life task at this time, was a lesson. And not too many of them were pleasant right now. He wanted to try and keep the pleasant ones, somewhat separate from the unpleasant ones. 

Reward was the key.

His butler, an elderly Altmer, entered the room. Giving a slight bow, "He has arrived, sir."

Nelanare watched her, "Good... good, show him in." 

Another slight bow before turning. "Yes sir."

His eyes remained on her as Estormo entered the room. Even before she physically reacted, he could feel the emotion in the air. And not just from her. Estormo was afraid... nervous. And she could feel it! She could taste it. 

Instantly, she came to life! Her eyes widened, her mouth slightly opened tasting his scent, but still curved up into a vicious type of grin. Her hands, twisted into claws! The chains that bound her to the wall, pulling tight, straining against their anchors as she moved forward to reach him! 

Estormo backed up, swallowing. His eyes moving between the chains, where they connected, as if reassuring himself that she couldn't get loose. Then, moving back to Nelanare.

Everything in him, wanted to ask if this was really necessary. But he knew any slight question would earn him disapproval, and he wanted nothing more than to please Ancano. He wanted to be reinstated. He wanted to remain with the one that understood him and helped him. Even as the growls from her, became more and more filled with need, he stayed still, awaiting instruction.

Nelanare moved behind him, firmly taking his shoulders in both hands, he held him and moved him slightly forward. Estormo sucked in a panicked breath, trying his best and failing, not to press back against him! He looked down at the floor, noticing a mark drawn across the stones in white powder. Evidently, this was the point that she couldn't reach. Being this close to her, it did very little to make him feel safe!

Nelanare pushed him forward until his toes were just at the mark. He was thanking the divines that her arms were chained. For if they hadn't been, she would've had him! She continuously strained at the chains, Nelanare's voice from behind him, reminding him that he had some form of protection, at least. 

"Sunnabe!" He snapped his fingers, getting her to look at him. "You want him, don't you!" Her eyes flickering back to her prey, she nodded.

His voice louder, stern. "Do not nod! Speak! Do you want him!" Still keeping hold of him, he gave Estormo a bit of a push. He cried out, and she went wild! Thrashing against the chains! Her eyes watering from the force of the collar pulling against her throat! Letting loose with a scream, her mouth glistening with saliva!

Oh Gods! She was drooling... 

He looked down at the floor, the mark on the stones. His feet were over the mark, just by a few inches... he pressed back against Nelanare! His eyes moving back to her... watching as her eyes moved to the floor, then back up to him! She whined and growled, furiously trying to get at him. Baring her teeth at him, she snapped them together! 

His voice, calmer this time. "Do you want him, Sunnabe? Answer me, or you will be caged! In front of him!"

Instantly, she stopped. She didn't back away, but he could see the realization as it flooded through her... it showed on her face. "He wants to see you caged Sunnabe! He thinks you are an animal! He thinks you should be caged!" Seeing the look of absolute hatred that was so strong on her face, he almost felt bad for the Mer he held. 

"Now answer me! With words!" 

She looked down at the ground, an almost pained expression twisted on her face. Looking up, her eyes darting between them... she screamed out! _"YYYYEESSSSS!"_

He held Estormo there, as she exploded against the chains! Her bared teeth, snapping a mere inch from his face! He could feel her breath, hot and blowing his hair about. He was completely covered in sweat, his body shook! Tears ran down his cheeks. 

"Good girl, Sunnabe... Good girl"

As soon as he let him loose, he fled into the outer room! Immediately Nelanare followed him, closing the door behind him. Taking a hold of Estormo's arm, he led them to a porch overlooking the water. A servant, poured them wine and left. 

Estormo grabbed the goblet with one hand, downing the wine, furiously wiping at his face with the other! He was in no mood for conversation! So whatever he had to say, he needed to be out with it! 

Nelanare could feel his anger. He was literally seething, but also, he was ashamed. Handing him a coin purse, he would make it quick. He would rather be with his subject anyway. "I will see you in two days, rest well." 

Without anything further, he left him... standing there with his coin.

Blowing past Nelanare's butler, he stalked out! Teeth clenched, his hands shaking. 'Whoever it was, that waited for him in his quarters... they would _definitely_ be getting their money's worth!'

*********

As soon as he walked in and saw her, he could tell she was suffering. The chains literally held her upright. With not enough length to allow for her to crouch, she had no choice but to stand, lest she be choked.

She was shaking... tears ran from her eyes, dropping onto her shoulders and chest. _He_ would be her soother. Walking to the soft chair closest to her, he sat. She watched him, as he waived his hand and the chains released... falling from her. She stood there, afraid to crouch, but unsure of what he wanted.

"Come to me Sunnabe..."

By pure instinct, she went down onto all fours and moved slowly toward him. Instantly, she felt relief throughout her body. The tightness in her legs, hips and back, started to subside. "That's right... " He patted his lap, "I want you to sit with me... I know that you are no animal, Sunnabe. You are a beautiful Mer... you are Bosmer... and I shall treat you as you should be." 

She needed comfort... she needed to be held. Tears ran from her eyes as she climbed into his lap and clung to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he crooned softly into her ear. "I know, Sunnabe... he is horrible and hateful... " 

She nodded... straining to get out the word. She sobbed. "Yyyesss..."

He stroked her, holding her tighter. Her tiny body shook in his lap, "Soon, Sunnabe... if you do all that I require... what belongs to you, will be yours. _He_ will be yours. Do you believe me?" 

She stilled, clutching at his robes, "Yyyeessss"

"You no longer need to feel fear when you speak. He was one of the bad ones... and he will be yours. But, you must listen to me... you must learn, and then you will have what you are owed."

He could feel her relaxing as he stroked her back, holding her. Whispering into her hair, "Next time, you will walk to me on only your feet... won't you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Pain  
> by: Three Days Grace


	29. I Have Waited So, So Long... {Part Two}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twirling his wine as he looked out over the water. "I do not feel for him, and she is owed! You know that as much as I do. His blood belongs to her and one day she will have it!"

**********

The day he arrived, he was too tired to try and even think of traveling. What he needed was rest. And he could tell the boy was sick of being alone, sick from worry. Worry over someone trying to break in, worry over whether or not he was still alive.

Happy to see him... happy that he was alright, and full of excitement. Full of idea's for their new lives to begin. Until Ranulf told him of his acceptance into the Companions.

Soaking in the warm springs while meat cooked on the spit, he tried to make him understand. Him being with the Companions was his chance for redemption. His chance to make things right... to make a difference and give back where he had taken so much.

Jorn understood that... he did. But he also knew Ranulf would be fighting. The only difference, was that he would now be on the other side of things. 

What it boiled down to was that the boy had no one. He didn't want the only person he really knew that cared for him to die at the end of someone's blade. Not when he was safe now. He had lived through the mess they had been in and they had a chance to start some kind of docile life. A safe life, not one where he was risking his neck on a daily basis.

Before the night ended there had been words and tears. Gods! He was trying to do the right thing! Jorn had wanted them to farm, something of that nature. And he'd thought over that, he really had. But approaching mid-thirties, no land, not enough money to buy a place.

He had never farmed, but he _had_ fought! He knew how to and he was good at it! That's the only reason he'd lived as long as he had!

Being in Whiterun, they'd have the protection of the city. He'd be earnin good coin and Jorn would be in Dragon's reach, the safest place in the whole city. So what if they had to wait awhile to have their own place! It wouldn't take long. Everything they had taken from the mine would be saved, along with his pay.

Jorn said he had some magical skills. Farengar had told Hrongar that he would pay him a bit of coin each week for his help, that he wasn't really good at teaching, but he could definitely use an assistant. This was the best chance they had, and he wasn't going to foul it up! He wasn't going to do away with the best, most smart opportunity that they had, simply cause of the boy's worries. It was the right thing to do.

The whole ride back to Whiterun, was silent.

*************

Just looking upon her, he was in awe. 

He had received word from Nelanare earlier in the day, that he needed to wait till evening. She had been through much. An eventful day. He had no problem in looking at her while she slept.

Ancano stood there, taking her in. She was completely naked, he could tell her hair had been freshly trimmed. Her dark skin shined, where callouses had been buffed off. Nelanare had told him that she was in a lot of pain attempting to stand upright for long periods of time. After each day was over he had his masseuse rub her down, rubbing the knots out of her muscles, then she would be bathed. 

All of this would aid in the transition her body was undergoing. And each day, it was getting easier for her. She seemed to actually enjoy the attention she received, as she was massaged. It relaxed her, especially the warm springs. If anything, she was getting to be spoiled. 

All things in moderation. After all, it was for medicinal purposes. 

Ancano just shook his head slowly, she was perfect. 

Tiny, lithe and finely toned. As much as he wanted her, he knew... it would take time. Nelanare hadn't even been intimate with her in any form other than simply holding her. He also knew that Nelanare would be the first to show her any form of intimacy. He would be her mentor, and everything that entailed.

Ancano would be allowed more and more time each week, getting closer and closer to her. He would have to be patient. This part... this much involvement, wasn't even necessary. Nelanare was offering, simply due to the fact that he had been the one to make the initial discovery, and had keep them looking until the prize had finally been found. 

He wanted her to have some kind of relationship with him, as it would make communication and trust easier once she was placed. For him... this was a bonus.

After a few moments, they went out to the outer porch and sat. The moon was full, giving them enough light to see the ocean perfectly. A small table sat between them, holding a bottle and two goblets. Pouring them both some wine, he handed Ancano his drink.

Many years ago, when Nelanare was still in charge of training at their headquarters. He had hired masons to carve steps into the rock face, that led down to the ocean.

Many times when he had hosted parties and social functions, Ancano had walked down to the beach with him. Going over lessons... asking him question after question. The Mer was brilliant! With him teaching her, he almost feared what she would emerge as when it was all over. From seeing her now, he couldn't imagine.

Even though they were outside, he still spoke in hushed tones. "She has excellent hearing. We will have to be quiet."

Ancano sipped, "What if they hadn't found her? Who would you have picked?"

Nelanare just shook his head. "I don't know. I have been looking ever since I found out their plan. Well, ever since she was stupid enough to trust me."

"Do you really think she will work? What if she aids him? What then?" Ancano turned in his chair, facing him. 

Nelanare set his wine down, looking at him. "If that happens the plan will fail. The Elders know, just as do I, that this is not a sure thing. We are taking a chance." 

Picking the goblet back up, he drained it, setting it down to pour more. "My nephew is a fool! As is my sister... he isn't smart enough to turn the tides on me! Or on us! But even without that, things in that wretched place are thus far moving in the direction we want. Even with Sunnabe's failure, I truly believe we would still prevail!"

Sipping and looking out over the ocean, Ancano sighed, "You could have been an Elder way before now you know. You would have had the power to determine the fates of multitudes."

His goblet, balanced on the arm of his chair. He didn't even look at him, "And I will tell you the same thing I told you when you were my student, Ancano. What I do determines the fate of many more. I create. I have the power to mold anyone into whatever I so choose. And then, I turn them loose unto Nirn, where they impact the lives of many more by doing the Dominion's bidding. I could never sit in a meeting room, dealing with bureaucrats and be happy. To me that is no life." 

He now turned to Ancano. His bright green eyes alight with excitement. "Look at what I will do with her! I will take what is now a wild animal, a Mer that can barely speak! And turn her into an unstoppable warrior! With her natural, wild instincts and gifts... combined with the training I will provide... " 

Ancano shook his head as he lowered his drink. "One of these days Nelanare... one of your creations may just turn on you."

His long, past teacher simply nodded. "Maybe so Ancano... maybe so. If and when that day comes, it shall then be my time."

What was going through his mind, was the fact that from what they had been told by Sorcal and Estormo, she already had been quite formidable. He almost feared what she would be, once Nelanare was done with her. And she was going to protect Lorundiil with her life. 

And Lorundiil's family... which was Nelanare's family as well, was trying to get _him_ away from the Isles. Lorundiil and his parents absolutely loathed the Thalmor. Were it not for his and his family's fear of the consequences they'd be facing for the commit of treason, he would be apt to show his open disdain to their own people. 

He doubted very much, that he would talk down his own people to her, but he may try to turn her against the Thalmor. And if she ever decided that they were the enemy, there could be trouble. She could more than hamper things for them. Especially if they chose to turn to Ulfric and his cause.

He let out a deep breath, thinking over the other issues that weighed on him. He wouldn't tell him that Estormo was unhappy... he already knew. He already also knew, that he was still helping him. Just the way he used to when he himself was Estormo's professor during _his_ training. 

More than once, he had bailed him out of trouble. Covering things up, to keep him from expulsion. Doing so even at the risk of his own termination.

Numerous times, he had gone to Nelanare for guidance, and each time he had been scolded! His Mentor telling him to let Estormo hang himself! The Mer had issues! That he was beyond anyone's help. 

He just couldn't do it. Even with all the trouble, he could see potential in him. He just had to curb his needs... needs that were sometimes quite disturbing.

His family was all gone, and he'd been orphaned at a very young age, both of his parents being killed in the war. He had been raised by priests, until they found out the types of things that he'd been doing. It was then, that they signed him over to the Thalmor, in the hopes that they would make some positive changes in him. 

The problem was that the more strictly he was treated and taught, the more that violence was used on him, the more sick he became. The more he felt the need to inflict damage on those that he had control over. To the point of death... horrible, torturous death. And it thrilled him. Any amount of control, any form of domination, or violence... it aroused him.

He was thankful he hadn't gotten to see the worst of it. Thank the divines _he_ had found him, and not someone else. 

He had missed class... Ancano closed his eyes, leaning his head back remembering. He'd gone looking for him. He had ended up finding him in his student's quarters. With what remained of a female servant, that had been naive enough to be enraptured with him.

He had literally been bathed in her blood when Ancano walked in. He was playing in it.

The fear he felt inside, right then... he should have listened to his instincts and turned him in. He just couldn't. He had no one. He never had. The Mer had never been loved, or shown any kind of affection... only violence. Pain and suffering.

He of course, had paid servants _and_ threatened them, to clean up the mess and keep quiet about it. From that moment, he had taken him to his estate and worked with him personally. Tutoring him.

For awhile, he had been afraid that he was beyond hope. If his superiors ever found out, Estormo would have been put to death. Someone with problems of his magnitude, was absolutely useless to them. He was a liability.

Really, the only reason Estormo had even been with him in Skyrim when they'd come upon Sunnabe and her parents, was so he could keep him under watchful eye. If he'd left him in the Isles alone, he feared what could happen. And Sunnabe's mother... well, that had been something all together different. They hadn't planned on killing them at all, just questioning them.

At that time, they were still conducting raids in Valenwood, as there were many there that still opposed the Dominion. And many had fled to different regions in Tamriel, to keep from pledging their allegiance.

As soon as they approached, they became defensive. Sunnabe's mother raised her daggers, and refused to lower them. Estormo took a step towards her and her husband charged him. Ancano knew there was no choice, it was going to be a fight. There would be no taking them prisoner. It would be to the death.

He and Sunnabe's father fought. When it was over, and the father had fallen, he turned to see something that he would never forget. Ever!

Estormo had literally staked the female's hands down to the ground with her own daggers. She was near dead, having been hit with lightning several times. He stood there frozen in disbelief. He was raping her... and stabbing her as he did it. 

When she died... he stilled. He remained on top of her, but he stilled. Almost as if he was completely spellbound, with what he had done... with what was happening. He literally looked amazed by it all.

He had gotten so angry with him! Insisting that they be buried, and that he assist! Just as much to hide the evidence, as to lure the child out. They knew there was a child. There had been a doll... hand made, from skins and furs. Shells, bones and feathers, had been sewn onto it. He had seen the like before in Valenwood. It was a girls.

He had threatened Estormo, that if they were able to draw her out, he was not to get near her! In fact, he was angry at the fact that they had even been killed! Angry at the fact that he had done what he did! If the struggle had been unavoidable, they could have at least drawn her out, had the parent's deaths been quick! 

But he knew, she had heard all the turmoil... heard her mother's screams! And his laughter... his voice. The things he had said to her mother... it had taken him a very long time, to get them out of his mind.

Not that he was innocent by any standard. He had conducted his fair share of torture. He had made his fair share of kills. He'd fought in the war. What he did, he did for their people... for the Dominion! It was different.

He had never taken any female by force... ever. He had no desire to. When he wanted sex, he wanted a willing partner, not one that fought him.

"You are still protecting him, aren't you..." Nelanare's voice, shaking him from his memories... his regrets and worries. 

He let out a sigh... he didn't even need to speak. He didn't have to say a word. Nelanare knew.

"I have often worried over your obsession to help him. I have also never understood it."

Pouring another for them both, Ancano let out another deep sigh. "I know... I just cannot abandon him, Nelanare. He has never had anyone... ever."

Twirling his wine as he looked out over the water. "I do not feel for him and she is owed! You know that as much as I do. His blood belongs to her and one day she will have it!"

Nelanare thought over it. He had... he had thought over her, way before he'd ever seen her. As soon as Ancano and Estormo returned, and Ancano told him of what had happened and that there had been a child. He had thought about her.

Over the years as they were stationed there, looking. He would have figured that she'd died. But the fact that she lived... it intrigued him! She was a survivor. Some may see what he was doing as cruelty. He did not. He was teaching her! Teaching her to be what she should've been all along. 

Bosmer. 

True, she had embraced the natural gifts of her people. That was in fact, the only thing that had allowed her survival! But the Bosmer people were so much more, than what she had become. When she was done learning from him, she would truly have all the traits of her people. A beautiful, gifted and powerful race! 

All he was doing was unlocking her potential.


	30. Reminders...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas took his arm, "I'm with you brother... "
> 
> He knew, going as a wolf, would make him feel stronger. Right now, being in the form of either, was agony for his brother. He had loved her as both... and both, would suffer. 
> 
> But going there, seeing the place she had lived... where they had spent time. He needed to feel the strength, only his wolf could give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember, we will be doing big jumps in time from here on out. Just so no one gets lost. Things that have happened over the time period, will be mentioned... reflected upon. Just so you know. This chapter, we are looking at a jump in the matter of a few months.
> 
> The next chapters after this one, will be jumping ahead the remainder of the five years. Until right before the events at Darkwater Crossing take place. Then, it will go to current Skyrim time. Again, there will be a lot of reflection into the past throughout the rest of the story.

*********

They watched from the back porch, as the three of them trained. As much as Vilkas had wanted to fight it, he was starting to get close to Ranulf. As much as he had wanted to hate him for being what he had been, when it was all said and done, he respected who he had become. The sacrifices he had made. After finding out about Ranulf's past, his mother and what had truly happened, what the man had been through... he was seeing things in a different light.

Of course, there were times that he still fought it. He took great pains to keep his heart buried... protected. To keep his feelings from being known. And Kodlak always worried over him because of it. Watching what Farkas had gone through, what he was still... well, it hadn't been easy. On any of them. It was going to take time. Losing a love was never easy. 

Just like a death it was... you grieved, and then over time you healed.

What they worried over now, was that he would never allow himself to find someone of his own, for fear of being hurt. When opening up was already so hard for him. It was almost as if he still blamed the Mer, for his brother's suffering.

Farkas needed Ranulf. They had gotten close fast. Ranulf being as old as he was, almost double the twins age. He was always there for them, always there to aid in training, answer any questions they had. But he never shoved the fact that he was older and more experienced around. He had great respect for the circle, and when it had been offered to him, he declined. 

Skjor knew the old man was regretting the blood. In fact, he was amazed that he had even wanted to offer it to the newcomer.

He hadn't pushed his feelings onto anyone yet, but he knew it was just a matter of time. Vilkas had struggled with it from the very beginning. Farkas of course, just like himself, was a natural at it. 

But since all the trouble over the Mer, and Vilkas trying to kill Ranulf. Farkas hadn't turned since.

They had talked numerous times over it. The thought of changing and not being able to be with her... it killed him inside. He couldn't even think about it, without the whole situation flooding back in. Then he would get quiet, down... worrying over what was happening to her.

Farkas pulled away from the group, setting his sword against the stone. Walking to the overlook, he folded his arms across it and looked out at the forest. Vilkas and Ranulf both stopped, watching him for a moment, before finally joining him. 

"I want to change..."

His words startled them both, they stared at him... sharing concerned glances. Stepping back, so he could face them both, he turned and walked up to where Kodlak and Skjor sat. Speaking quietly, so no whelps close by could hear. "I'm going to change, tonight." 

He looked right at Skjor, then at his brother. "I need to get into her home... up in that tree. There's things in there that belong to her! I want them!"

Kodlak nodded. He wouldn't deny him... he wouldn't deny any of them. Even with what weighed on his heart, he could only guide them. The old man stood up, and what he said... shocked them all. His health had recently started to fail, he hadn't transformed since. Facing the end... it tends to make a man rethink his decisions. "Do you want to do this alone Farkas? Or would you like us there for support?" 

Farkas' eyes welled up, his hands going up to Kodlak's shoulders. "I'd like you there... " Turning to them all, "I'd like you all there."

"I'm going to ask Anoriath and his brother, along with Hrongar to come as well. Anoriath is a good climber, he'll be able to get into that tree."

Vilkas took his arm, "I'm with you brother! " He knew, going as a wolf, would make him feel stronger. Right now, being in the form of either one, was agony for his brother. He had loved her as both... and both would suffer. But going there, seeing the place she had lived... where they had spent time. He needed to feel the strength, that only his wolf could give him. 

Vilkas had apologized to his brother. He had made every attempt to get closer, and to understand his pain. And they were closer for it, their relationship stronger. He just couldn't stand to see him suffer! He loved him... he was part of him and when he was in pain, he felt the need to lash out! To stop what was causing it. When he explained how he felt to Farkas, he had understood.

Ranulf shook his head. "I'll stay behind... watch the homestead, keep an eye on things." He knew he had been included. But this... this was theirs. He wouldn't intrude. It would give him time to have the boy in for a visit.

**********

With a good sized knapsack on his back, he had gotten up to the lowest branches and sat. They all gathered below... Hrongar, Elrindir and four wolves, watching as he strapped climbing spikes to his calves.

Once inside, he paused... Just being here, seeing how she had crafted her home around the tree, it was like being back in their homeland. Except, instead of her's being made out of the tree, she had done it with skins and furs. Taking his time, he felt all along it. Looking at every seam. 

Kneeling, as the quarters were cramped... he opened his knapsack and started to put her things inside. He would leave nothing. 

Folding a set of her handmade clothing, he neatly packed it in. Herbs, bowls made from skins and small animal skulls. Skins and furs. He pulled her bow down... it was too dark to see it good, but he knew that he and his brother both, would be wanting a look at that. 

It had been carved from what looked like a rib bone. Not a man's... something bigger. Something that she could take and shape into what she wanted. If they could've only gotten to know her... what they all could've learned from her. It would've been like having a piece of their homeland, right here.

Pulling the last of the skins from the corner, he stopped. There was a bow... a tiny bow. His hands shook as he held it... casting another candlelight spell, so he could see. Running his hands over the worn symbols that adorned it... he wept.

Watching as he made his descent down... Kodlak nuzzled Farkas. Hrongar had told Elrindir and his brother, that they needed to remember this moment... for it was great. Kodlak in wolf form, was truly a sight to behold. He was bigger than the rest in the circle, with white and grey around his muzzle and ears. With his health failing, this may very well be the last time that he transformed. 

He did it for Farkas.

Tears ran down the fur on Farkas' face, as well as Anoriath's, as his giant clawed hands, reached out to take the knapsack and the bow. Anoriath reached up, patting his arm. "My brother and I... we'll be waiting at the Huntsman with Hrongar. We would like to see the bows, if you don't mind." 

He nodded and turned, heading toward the underforge... then stopped. Going back to the tree, he looked up. His heart ached with a ferocity to see her, sitting in the branches, looking down at him. She would always be his... no matter what happened. He would never want another.

Gently, he set the items down and stood on his hind feet. Over and over, he swung his powerful hands at the tree, his razor sharp claws, slicing deeply into the bark. The cries from his family behind him, pierced the night.

It would be marked forever. 

**********

Alone, he had walked to the Huntsman. Vilkas and the others had stayed behind. They gathered upstairs around a table, and took in the objects he'd brought. Elrindir and Anoriath, telling them how the bows had been made. Remembering their homeland... it was bittersweet. Her clothing and skins and furs, he had left in his quarters. They felt too personal to share. Bottle after bottle, they drank. Tears flowed...

Finally, when he knew he couldn't swallow another mouthful, he stood. Turning to Hrongar, he handed him the tiny bow. "I think this should be yours. You meant a whole lot to her, for her to follow you the way she did. I know... she meant a whole lot to you too." Hrongar ran a hand over his face, wiping up the tears that flooded over. Taking each other's arms. "And you're the only reason that I ever met her, got to know her." 

Nodding to the brothers, he took her bow and headed out. He would let the brothers keep the bowls and other handmade items. He would keep her bow, along with what was already locked in his wardrobe. Any little bit of her, that he could have... he would cherish. 

Weaving his way towards his room, he took in the newcomer that sat in Kodlak's sitting room, with he and Skjor. Some redhead. All he wanted to do, was pass out. Whoever it was, he'd meet em tomorrow.

**********

"I was wondering when you'd grace our doorstep. Skjor here, joined shortly before your mother passed. I knew her well, Aela." 

He fought to keep his eyes off from her and pay attention to what the old man was saying. Her attire was of that their ancient ancestors used to wear. She was a sight for sure. 

"Tomorrow after you've met everyone, he will give you your trial." 

Her green eyes met his... she smiled. "I've waited a long time for this. "

***********

Standing in front of her, "Are you ready?" 

She had worked so, so hard. In fact, her progress was astounding him! The longer she was around those that were civilized, the more she strove to learn. She pushed herself, attempting daily to do more than each day before. Even with all that she still had to learn, she had accomplished much. 

She wore the attire of his people now. Now, that she was more Mer, than wild creature. He was having a special wardrobe crafted just for her. For each different activity. Before she finally left him, she would have all that she needed, to start off on her new journey. Only the best.

His butler entered. "He has arrived sir... shall I?" 

Nelanare simply nodded. Soon they wouldn't even need the chain. Soon, they wouldn't need him. 

Estormo entered. She remained calm. She stood, shoulders back... head held high. Nelanare watched her closely. Looking for any trace of aggression. The only expression she wore, was one of disdain... pure contempt. In time, his goal was for her to not even show that. But the fact that she remained calm now, even with her feelings being visible, was more than satisfactory. 

Of his own volition, Estormo walked up to the line and stopped. He watched her. Nowhere near the line, she stood still, the chain that was attached to her collar hanging loose. She no longer pulled and strained against them whenever he was present. Making it easier and easier for him to be there. He still didn't trust her, but at least he didn't feel the need to wretch from stress after he left. 

Her hands were no longer bound. Just seeing that, made him break out in an involuntary sweat, but he would hold his ground. He would try not to let her see the effect that she had on him. She stayed still, just staring at him. Almost as if she was bored... as if she could care less. 

Nelanare stood at the side, smiling at her. "Good job, Sunnabe! I am so very pleased!" 

Estormo let out a deep breath... turning his head to look at Nelanare, giving him a pure look of relief. Nelanare's face instantly twisted up in fear! Before he could even register what the feeling in his guts was telling him... a warm, wet tongue, slid up his entire cheek. His insides clenched up in terror! His head turned... she was so close, that their noses were touching! 

He screamed! Jumping back, he hit the wall behind him and slid down it! Warmth spread through his leggings as he wet himself. She was standing over the line... smiling down at him. Still calm, but now the look she bore, was one of victory... an ominous knowledge. 

She could have killed him and she hadn't. 

Tears slid down his face! His whole body trembled and quaked! He pointed up at her, looking at Nelanare accusingly! _"You... you moved the damned line!"_ He sputtered. _"How could you do that!_ This agreement was not to end in my demise, Nelanare!" 

Pushing himself up the wall, making every futile attempt to straighten his clothing. He wiped at his face, glaring between them!

Nelanare held his hand up to him. "I did not move the line..."

Estormo quieted as Nelanare moved slowly to her. Turning to him, she looked down... knowing she had done wrong. She had acted without his knowledge. 

So quiet, he could barely hear it. "Forgive me... "

He couldn't be angry at her. She had proven that she was ready to be without her binds. She'd had a chance to end his life... to have her revenge, and she hadn't taken it. In fact, she hadn't even raised her hands.

It was simply a reminder... she was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't a whole lot known about Aela's family, except that all the women in her family were Companions. And that she waited to join, until she was old enough for her trial. So, I'm doing the best I can, with that.
> 
> Also, when Skjor says he was surprised that Kodlak would offer the blood to someone when he was regretting having it, I'm not referring to the part of the game where they sneak and offer it to the Dovahkiin. That part hasn't happened yet.
> 
>  
> 
>  


	31. Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After each success, and even after her failures he would welcome her into his lap. It had become routine to the point that she needed it. She needed the affection... she longed for it. He would hold her, stroking her back and her arms... soothing her, calming her. And each time, she would be allowed to be more free with touching him.
> 
> He had held back, waiting for her to make the first move, for _her_ to initiate actual intimacy. For if he had done it and she wasn't prepared, she would see it as a trespass, hampering his progress with her... her trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember there will be a lot of reflection into the past throughout. Several chapters, then will be going to the events at Darkwater crossing, where Ulfric is arrested. Again, some divergence, but being that there isn't a lot known about why they were actually in that local and everything that transpired there, I feel safe in moving it to suit my story some.

***********

His eyes glancing over to where she lay, he turned laying on his side to better see her. She never stayed in his bed. And even now that they were to the point that he almost welcomed it, she wouldn't. She couldn't stand it.

She hadn't had that closeness since she was tiny. And now... it was possible, that it may take years and even then she still may never feel comfortable being in a bed with someone for long. Just long enough for intimacy to take place, then she needed her personal space.

Perhaps it was best. Perhaps... _what was he thinking! Of course it was best!_ In less than a month she would be gone. He would never see her again.

Never in his life, had he ever had a problem getting attached to one of his pupils... his projects. But over the almost five years that he'd had her, she had become much, much more to him than that. 

At first, he had almost entertained the weak thoughts and feelings that had threatened to plague him. 

Jealously had been the worst. Envy. 

But, they were irrational fears. She loved him. Looked up to him and strove to please him. In a way that she did not, Ancano. What she wanted from Ancano was a mate and she would never, ever get that. 

What she wanted and needed from _him_ was everything else. He was her teacher, her mentor and her master. He had taken the place of _more_ than just a father figure... one that she was very intimate with. 

She was terrified of seeing disappointment, on either of their faces... in their eyes. It hadn't come very often.

And now he was even seeing regret in the eyes of his once student. He didn't feel pity for him. He was getting exactly what he had wished for... what he had waited for, for so very long. And when the time came, he would get even more than that. Way more. 

Except then, it wouldn't be what he wanted. He was quite sure of it. Perhaps that was why he had started to back away from her.

Now, when Ancano did come... and the times were lessening, coming with less and less frequency, Nelanare left. He could no longer bear to be in the same home while they coupled. Hearing her with him. 

He would be coming on the morrow, after her last trial with their captives. One last time.

It would be hard for her. She knew she may never see him again. Even in Skyrim, their paths may never cross. And after he was done with her, Nelanare would be there to pick up the pieces. To prove to her before she left, that he loved her more than anyone. That it was what he, and he alone, had done for her that mattered!

Lorundiil had no knowledge of her intimacy with either of them. That would be up to her to discuss with him. She was still pure, but only in that particular way. Even as badly, as he had wanted it... as badly as she had begged him to take her, he had refused! And it had taken everything he'd had to do so.

That would be hers to offer. To either Lorundiil, or someone else of her choosing. Neither he, nor Ancano would take that from her! And with everything in him, he truly believed that Lorundiil would never have anything to do with her. He was of the purest blood, brought up to only be with his own kind. He would take himself in hand, before he would couple with a Mer that was other than Altmer. And he _definitely_ couldn't see him with a Nord.

No... he would leave her to herself. The problem was, now she was used to Altmer males. And she was used to being pleased... having that release. He was curious of what would happen once they were traveling and alone.

All Lorundiil knew from his visits with her, were her skills... her training. Her, being his body guard... his protection, was all that mattered to him. After all, she would play a key role in getting him away from his homeland and away from his people. Away from his duty!

He was a coward! He was a fool. 

His family, as well as Nelanare's, was willing to pay whatever price he had given them. His sister trusting him enough, thinking he would keep it quiet! Their real reason for getting their son and heir away from the Isles. 

Like getting him away from the Thalmor and the service that he owed to his people would save him in the end!

He would be walking right into the enemy's territory. If he thought his own people were rife with prejudice, just wait until he came across Ulfric's people. He was in for a rude awakening! 

His sister actually making complaint about the Thalmor's ways, talking against them. The night she had approached him, as he sat for Sundas meal in their home. Two years prior to even finding Sunnabe. He had listened... silent, as she spoke treason against their own blood!

She was a fool as well. The very next day he had gone to the Elders, telling them of his sister's plans. Instead of arresting them all, they chose to let him enact his idea. And as luck would have it, Estormo had found Sunnabe, bringing her to him.

The entire time he had been training her, they had kept watch over the events taking place in Skyrim. Watching Ulfric.

Lorundiil was ready... _she_ was ready. Just thinking about it, laughter threatened to burst forth from him. Bringing one of his hands up, he covered his mouth, stifling it. 

Ulfric was ready as well.

Torygg was dead. Right at that same moment as he lay there, more and more Imperial troops crossed the borders into Skyrim, setting up camps in attempt to deal with the rebel King and his Stormcloaks.

Just as his own were sailing each day. They still had a few weeks before she and Lorundiil planned to depart. When the time came, they would take a small vessel up through the Topal Bay, through to the Niben that moved through Cyrodiil. Docking in the Imperial City ports in Lake Rumare, then going by horseback they would travel through one of the possible passes in the Jerral mountains into Skyrim. 

They were by no means to be seen in the Solitude, nor the Windhelm ports. Besides... Ulfric hadn't been seen in Windhelm for some weeks now. There was no use in going there. For someone of Ulfric's importance, for him to risk moving outside the safety of his city walls, especially now that he was wanted. None of them understood it. And it would be his poor decision making that would aid them now.

Nelanare blinked in the darkness, watching as she stretched and turned. Licking his lips... his mouth and the fine white hairs around it still tasted and smelled of her. They were intimate almost nightly now. She came to him for comfort, for reward... for release.

Knowing she liked to be up high, he'd had a bed built into the wall of his bedchamber. It was up high enough that she had to climb to get to it, and she could see through the small slats, that ran along the edge of the ceiling for ventilation. Even with all he had taught her, she still needed that freedom. The need to be up high... off the ground.

He allowed it. He wasn't trying to take everything her wildness had given her. His goal all along had been to add to it. And when the time came for her to travel with Lorundiil, he had no doubt that she would be in a tree, watching over him while he slept on the ground, around whatever fire they had built. 

It would give her the advantage over anyone that approached on foot. No one would be expecting an attack from the air.

Looking up at her... his tongue ran over his lips once more. Finally turning away from her, his long white hair fanned out onto the pillow behind him, he closed his eyes thinking over their first time together. He didn't think that he would ever forget it. And all too soon, memories, would be all that he had left.

Still, just thinking about it sent him reeling.

Even as aged as he was, in all his years he'd never experienced anything even remotely close to what he had with her!

After each success, and even after her failures, he would welcome her into his lap. It had become routine to the point that she needed it. She needed the affection... longed for it. He would hold her, stroking her back and her arms... soothing her, calming her. And each time, she would be allowed to be more free with touching him.

He had held back. Waiting for her to make the first move... for _her_ to initiate actual intimacy. For if he had done it and she wasn't prepared, she would see it as a trespass, hampering his progress with her... her trust. 

He knew that she could smell his arousal, she could sense it. Sitting on his lap he had removed his outer robes, sitting in just silken pants and a shirt, open at the chest. His hair was wet from bathing himself, flowing freely down his back. He allowed her to play with it. 

Having had her rubbed down and bathed, he'd allowed her some wine. She nuzzled him and then she had kissed him... kissed his neck. It was then that panic set in. She tensed up, thinking that he would be cross with her. That perhaps she had crossed a line.

Taking her hand, he had slowly and calmly moved it down, placing it over his erection. Instantly, she had calmed, becoming very still. Keeping his eyes downcast, looking at her hand in his lap. He whispered to her, 'It's alright Sunnabe... you know that your Master wants you.'

That's all it had taken. It was like the flood gates had broken free. She was ready. She had been ready.

Instantly, her hand had tightened around the form of his cock! She began to growl... low and soft, but steady... unwavering. Her mouth was in his ear... her breath, hot and sweet from the wine, tickling against him. Through complete impulse alone, his hips bucked, moving harder into the grasp of her hand. His eyes closed... gasping as she roughly squeezed him!

Her small body molding to his, as she rubbed against him. He had to get her to the bedroom, or she would end up tearing his clothes off right there in the chair they sat in.

Now looking back on it, he knew he'd made the right decision in picking her up and carrying her into his chambers. As soon as he had given her the okay, she had instantly turned back into the wild thing, that he'd been presented with in the very beginning. Except instead of being submissive, she was in control. And he allowed it. 

He had never in all his days, been so turned on as he was right then. In every instance where he had been intimate with another, he had always been the aggressor. The one in control. 

Until now.

Setting her onto the bed. He'd had to quickly remove his clothes, lest they be torn from him! Even standing on the bed, she was still almost a half foot shy of being equal to him in height. Her hands wrapped up in his hair, as she forced her mouth over his! Biting and nipping at him, it was almost as if she were trying to devour him. 

He'd literally had to heal himself once their session had ended. 

Trying to gently lay her down with him, he'd been overwhelmed. And finally, he'd completely given in to her. Laying down, he'd spread himself out to her. She climbed over his body, growling and nipping at him... lapping at his skin with her tongue. So hard that he stood erect... straight up from his body. He had openly cried out, whining as she groped at him. Rubbing her body onto him... her sex, absolutely dripping wet, she ground herself onto his thighs and his hips. Running her slick, wet folds, over the length of his cock.

Lifting his legs up to his chest, he bared himself fully to her. She'd went berserk! The only thing that he could liken it to, was an animal that was in heat. Her mouth and nose went right to his ass. Rubbing her face against his hole, she breathed him in... groaning deeply. Using both of her hands, she grabbed his cheeks, spreading him as wide as he would go, digging her little nails into his ass.

She'd literally mouthed him... chewing on his most sensitive flesh, growling louder, as he threw his head back into the pillows and cried out! 

Both of her hands wrapped around his cock! More than a few times, he was genuinely afraid of what she may do! She almost seemed out of control. He'd had to lightly push her head away several times, when she got too rambunctious with her sharp little fangs. Forcibly, she had pushed her tongue into his slit! And when he came, she'd acted ravenous, licking him clean. Rubbing his cock all over her face, and neck... her small breasts.

Almost going into a trance like state, she'd attempted to mount him... closing her eyes, her head going back... she'd actually panted. Her little tongue, sticking just a tiny bit from her lips, tasting the strong scent that hung so heavy in the air.

Taking her hips he had moved her just in time to keep from going too deeply inside of her. And for this, he had received the most venomous of looks!

As excited as she was, he was almost afraid that she would only accept his shaft, as a means of pleasure. 

There was absolutely no way, that he could or would allow that. 

Speaking to her soothingly, and finally getting her to calm enough to lay back on the bed. He listened to the impatient mewls coming forth from her throat, and spread her legs, climbing in between them. 

Inside of him a battle waged... would he be able to please her?? Would this suffice? Now that she was ready to mate? To be taken? 

Never, had he been in a situation even remotely like this! But at his age, he was more than experienced in the arts of pleasure. 

Firmly holding her arms by the wrists, he kept them in place, as he peppered her belly with feather light kisses... his tongue coming out to tease her here and there. 

Her hips bucked up against him, her head flung to and fro, the further down he got, as he nuzzled into the downy soft hair that graced her sex. 

Glancing up at her, his eyes gleamed in the darkened room. Now that he thought of it, there was something... a way that he could take her... a way that he could give them both, what they desired so very badly.

Running his fingers through her slick, wet folds... there was a way... he just had to prepare her.


	32. Rewards 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had huddled around her and Nelanare afterwards, wanting to know her history and where she had come from. And even those of her blood... her own people, they had looked upon her in fear! Their mouths agape, their eyes wide, hands up to their mouths in shock as they circled around her! She had stared straight ahead then as well, her shoulders back, head held high! Her ears, nor any feature on her, showing a single trace of emotion, as they ogled her! Looking upon her... covered in the blood of her foe!
> 
> She would do _nothing_ to displease him! She would bring him honor! And he would be proud of her! And he would love her.
> 
> She would slay _anyone_ to win his favor! And then... then she would be smiling on the inside. Just as she was, right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you read, you will see that this is mostly a reflection of her first trial... the third and final one is coming in the next chapter.

Indestructible  
Determination that is incorruptible  
From the other side a terror to behold  
Annihilation will be unavoidable  
Every broken enemy will know  
That their opponent had to be invincible  
Take a last look around while you're alive  
I'm an indestructible master of war

*********

Slowly, her Master walked around her. Standing at attention, staring straight ahead. Even though she could see him perfectly... her eyes never moved directly to him, unless they were meant to. 

Shoulders back... head held high. 

Nelanare circled her... taking her in. Her demeanor. She was oblivious to all in her surroundings and whatever distractions they may create, the noise from the Mer that were now filling the Amphitheater's tiered seating areas. Soon it would be so loud you wouldn't be able to hear yourself speak. 

Especially once the betting started.

They had refrained at first, but after her first victory there would be no stopping it. All of the Elders had taken part. They would be generous and allow the same for their military and their instructors.

There were three main parts, the cavea, the arena, and the vomitorium. The seating area... the cavea, was organized into three horizontal sections, corresponding to the social class of the spectators. The ima cavea, the lowest part of the cavea and the one directly surrounding the arena... was always reserved for the upper echelons of their society, and for royalty. 

The media cavea, directly followed the ima, and would normally be open to the general public... though mostly for males. The summa, was the highest section away from the arena, and would be open to females, children and commoners. Today however, only the Elders, Council members, and their Thalmor Military were present. 

Especially the Instructors from the training center.

This was her third and was also to be her final trial. Of which on the first trial, only the Elders and Council members had been present. After that... well, they had made sure to include as many from the training center as possible. Their Bosmer Council members and Chieftains had been absolutely astounded! 

They had huddled around her and Nelanare afterwards, wanting to know her history and where she had come from. And even those of her blood... her own people, they had looked upon her in fear! Their mouths agape, their eyes wide, hands up to their mouths in shock as they circled around her! She had stared straight ahead then as well, her shoulders back, head held high! Her ears, nor any feature on her, showing a single trace of emotion, as they ogled her! Looking upon her... covered in the blood of her foe!

She would do _nothing_ to displease him! She would bring him honor! And he would be proud of her! And he would love her.

She would slay _anyone_ to win his favor! And then... then she would be smiling on the inside. Just as she was, right then.

She had been escorted by soldiers, back to his home. Bathed... rubbed down. She was full... sated, on the flesh of her kill... his blood. That, had been the immediate reward for her victory. And he allowed her... he wanted her to show her ferocity! Show, that she had a taste for flesh! 

The looks and the gasps, that had rang forth from the crowd of Elders. Altmer and Bosmer, even the eldest of her own kind, had not been witness to cannibalism in so many years, that even they themselves had lost count.

Their reaction. _That_ had been her second reward.

And after their guests departed... after they were alone, she would get her most coveted of rewards. 

His touch. His mouth, his tongue... his body. 

His love. 

**********

Her first battle had been against a single Nord. A giant of a man, he had been. It had mattered little. The larger they were, the slower they moved. And she was fast! She knew that from the time she was very, very small.

After all, her very first kill had been a large man. And it had mattered little.

When you were starving, meat was meat.

Standing before the gated entrance to the arena. Her eyes closed, the noise fading into the distance as she remembered every minute.

Standing at the gate for the first time, she had looked through the slats, to the dirt floor of the arena. Altmer and Bosmer servants, walked over every inch of it combing it with rakes and smoothing it out. The Elders, all seated were speaking to one another, she could hear every word. Memorizing the pitch and tone of each different voice, her eyes darting about as Nelanare circled her just like he always did when she was being tested. He was looking for signs of stress. Anything that would show she was off, or show that she wasn't ready. 

She, on the other hand, had been studying the crowd. She took in each face, each one's race and age. By the end of that first match, she could tell him who each one was, just by the sound of their voice.

At the end, when they had finally felt safe enough to crowd in around her, she had matched each Mer's own personal smell to them as well. Nelanare had been absolutely giddy when she had told him later. Telling her how she had pleased him, how she had already far exceeded his expectations of her! Of course, he would never tell the Elders of every gift she had. Especially these. 

The ones in control, would never allow themselves to be put into danger. They would never allow her to exist, if they knew just how vulnerable they actually were. But she would never hurt them, unless he commanded her to.

Before she finally left him, she could be put into a pitch black room, with numerous Mer, and without making a single noise, be able to tell them apart. Tell him who was who, by their scent and how their scent changed as the emotions poured forth from them.

Just that thought, had made her want to smile.

Even before his teachings, she had been well versed in the reading of emotions. Expressions and mannerisms of Man and Mer alike, just like she was with the animals that lived in the wilds. After all, she had been the silent observer. Seeing all... hearing all.

If she had been gifted with the blood of a wolf... she could have heard their very hearts beating inside of their chests. That was all that she was missing.

Even standing on this very spot, waiting for the gates to rise for her first trial, she had remembered. Remembered the day that her mother and father were slain... remembered the day that she had been taken and her man had been killed. Her wolf.

All her gifts... all her strengths... they hadn't been enough to protect him... to keep him alive. They hadn't been enough to keep her safe, to keep her from being taken. 

No, If she'd had that blood then... that blood coupled with her natural gifts, perhaps she could have stopped it. It would have never happened. He would still be alive, and she would be his mate.

She had thought over that numerous times and each time, she had felt guilty. Guilty, that she was still thinking of another, when her mind should be on her master. Should be on what he was preparing her for, not what once was. Not on her failures... her weaknesses.

The past, her long dead wolf... was something that would never be. Something that wouldn't have happened, had he not been distracted by her, and had she not been distracted by him. And that distraction was something that she would never succumb to again!

Even with Ancano, she was starting to see, to feel that he was regretting his closeness to her. He feared it. He wanted her. He wanted more than what they could ever have. And each time they coupled, his true emotions would come out, stronger and stronger. He acted more ravenous, like he couldn't get enough of her flesh. Pulling on her... holding her so tightly... kissing her and murmuring to her with such abandon. 

And then when they were through, he would act aloof. And she would lay there, just watching him and fighting to contain her smile. It was an act. A safety mechanism that he would turn on, in order to protect his precious pride. 

She would never allow that to affect her again either, not like it had the first time he'd shown it. Just another distraction.

No, she would think on Nelanare and what he would gift her with, when she walked out of the arena triumphant!

She would think of the mission ahead and her new master, their goals. 

Then she realized, that it was not betrayal... she wanted to be stronger, better... and that would please him. And pleasing him was all that mattered. In time, protecting Lorundiil would be all that mattered. And when that time came, she would be back in Skyrim. And when the opportunity provided itself to her, she would take it. And Lorundiil would approve, for then she would truly be invincible. 

She would never be harmed again, and she would never allow him to be harmed. 

That had been the thought running through her mind, as the gates rolled up into the stone framework that first time.

Slowly she walked out.

All conversation in the seating areas above, had lowered to soft murmurs as she entered the arena. Nelanare would watch from the gated area from which she came. He would not join the others. He would be closer to her should she need him this way. And he would be the first one out onto the arena floor, should anything happen to her, and the first to greet her when her victory came.

Thought of harm to herself had not even crossed her mind. Failure was not an option, therefore she hadn't considered it.

Over her years with him, he had taken her agility... her speed and grace, and honed it. Teaching her different fighting techniques. The techniques that he had taught his own people for over a hundred and fifty years. Techniques that he had learned from Altmer, Bosmer, Dunmer and Orsimer alike.

How to use the least amount of her strength and energy to kill an opponent. The strikes to take and the ones not to. The most deadly of areas to target. 

The gate across from her rolled up. For just a moment when he walked out, she stopped. The murmurs in the crowd increased. She knew what they were thinking as well... thinking that she didn't stand a chance. 

What she was doing, was sizing him up. 

Dropping the sword from her left hand into the dirt, she slowly walked forward... she would only need one.

***********

Ancano sat absolutely glued to the scene in front of him. If he'd had his choice, he'd have been on his feet, gripping the railing. But due to propriety he didn't dare. 

Being the only one in the audience that wasn't an Elder, or Council member. And the only reason he'd been permitted to attend, was due to his relationship with Nelanare. Even though Nelanare had given his nephew permission to join him in the more private area, he had declined. He abhorred such events, and thus would not take part.

When he had been told this, he'd actually been unable to hold in his laughter. "What shall he do in their wretched land? The Nords will make a meal of him! Does Sunnabe know of the true coward, her new master will be!"

Nelanare had simply shaken his head, sipping on his wine... attempting to stifle his own amusement.

Now watching, as she entered the Arena floor, Ancano's eyes shifted between them. Their size difference of course, was obvious. But the closer they got to one another, the more evident it became that if the Nord ever got hold of her, he would literally be able to break her in two. 

Hroi, had been their reigning champion for some months now, and had even gone against several magic users and not been defeated. Injured, but not defeated. Having been captured as an enemy, and rather than being tortured and killed, he had sworn fealty to them.

Of course, they really had no use for him other than this. He couldn't be trusted to wander freely around their lands and definitely not to be returned to his homeland. So they'd kept him. Entertainment, as it were. Putting him up against other captives, that they had no use for. 

Even though he had claimed to be a full blood Nord, they didn't believe him. The color of his skin was much too dark... his eyes, hazel in color, and thick, curly hair as black as the moonless night. He was definitely a half-breed. His massive size, and his hair, ruled out an Imperial mix. More than likely Nord and Redguard. 

He was currently being housed at one of the Bosmer Chieftain's homes... Uuras Willowlake. Living in luxury, in an empty servant's quarters. The Bosmer had earned quite a hefty amount of coin betting on his matches, and had absolutely no problem keeping him about... especially during personal gatherings. Where he could boast of his triumphs, and his winnings... showing him off.

Also, he had heard rumors running rampant throughout the barracks, that coin was also being collected from those that wanted personal time with him, during and after said gatherings. He wasn't surprised, Hroi was quite striking in appearance. There would be males and females both, that would pay a good price to share a bed with one that looked as he did. 

Ancano couldn't see him complaining about it either. After all, he was being housed and fed, simply for doing what came natural to his kind. Brawling and mating. 

At a towering six foot seven inches, and absolutely bound with muscle, he stood there in steel armor. No doubt sweating profusely under the weight of it all. His calloused hands raised up, unbuckling his chest plate... he let it drop to the ground. 

Every Elder... every Council member, became completely silent, as they heard a deep bellowing laugh spring forth from Hroi's lips! 

Ancano ventured a look in Uuras' direction. Just the look on the Bosmer's face, told him that he was concerned. Uuras shifted in his seat, folding his long tan fingers under his chin. Just like Ancano and Nelanare, he had no choice but to remain silent and watch, as his champion underestimated his opponent. 

Looking in the direction of the gate that she had emerged from, he could see Nelanare's face as he stood in the opening... watching. He appeared to be completely calm. Not a trace of worry could be seen. If his mentor could be as sure of her as he seemed to be... Ancano sat back, his hands clutching the armrests of his chair, fighting to reign in his concern as Hroi's helmet now fell at his feet. 

Strands of his black hair, clung to his sweat dampened skin. His full lips spread into a wide grin, as he took in the tiny Wood Elf before him... his broad chest, shaking in his laughter. Every Mer was silent. Not a sound was made, as they all looked on. The Bosmer in the audience, would periodically share glances, their eyes then shifting back toward the arena floor. Ancano swore he could hear Uuras swallow.

Removed of all but the lower half of his armor and his boots, bearing only a steel battle ax as a weapon, he finally stepped forward. One large hand raised, gesturing her forward. A look of pathetic amusement on his face. He smiled, nodding to her... speaking to her as if she were a child. "Come on Elf... lets us get this over with shall we?"

Sunnabe, armored in light green and brown leathers... arms and legs bare, except for the knee high boots she wore. From what Nelanare had told him, it was quite close in weight to what she had been wearing, when she was first brought to him. She did not need heavy armor. All it would succeed in doing, was slowing her down.

As he moved forward, she slowly moved to the side... facing him... circling him. Absolutely devoid of expression. He studied her... there was no aggression, nor concern on her face. She watched him... and as soon as he stopped and once more began to speak, she ran!

In no more than mere seconds, the Nord began to sway on his feet, as blood ran down from his shoulder, through the thick hair that covered his chest in rivulets! 

Ancano jumped to his feet! Grabbing onto the railing! His mouth hung open wide! Oblivious to his own gasp!

The others had now joined him at the railing... watching as Hroi's expression turned into horrible realization! Right before he dropped to his knees, and fell face first into the dirt floor of the arena. 

Ancano could not believe what he had just seen! She had climbed him! Literally climbed his body! And in one move, had plunged her sword downward, through the top of his shoulder... straight into his heart!

One swift blow was all it had taken, and the giant lay dead. So fast in fact, that he had probably felt very little pain. He was dead before his brain could even really register what had happened.

Without a single glance at the crowd in the stands, she walked to the fallen body of her enemy, and taking her sword, ran it down the length of his back. Slicing through the skin, and baring the loins. The best part in her opinion... 

Kneeling down onto him, she dug her hands into his back and pulled out the most tender of flesh, that surrounded his spine. Blood ran from her mouth, flowing down her neck and chest, as she feasted on her reward. 

Standing for this last time before these gates, closing her eyes, she remembered the smell. That sweet smell, as it had filled the air. Swallowing, as her mouth watered. If she had been allowed to have her way, she would have kept some for later... she would have taken souvenirs. But that would have never been allowed. She was pleased that Nelanare had allowed her to simply feast on him. After all... it was her victory. Her kill.

Turning him over, her heart pounding fiercely in the excitement pouring off from the crowd that watched her. Hands, sticky and red, pulled open his armor, she revealed the final prize! Taking hold of his manhood with one hand, her blade swung down, severing it from his body. Turning to them, she threw her hands into the air in triumph! Sword in one, and the proof of her victory, in the other! 

Her eyes landing on the other reward Nelanare would give for her victory. 

Watching him as he grasped the railing... his eyes wide in his shock... his mouth agape as he stared back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Indestructible  
> By: Disturbed
> 
> Also, I used a description of the ancient amphitheaters in Rome. As this is what i could envision them having her fight in, except mine doesn't have the almost maze-like walled areas in the arena floor, like some of the Colosseums. Mine is more of an open dirt floored arena.


	33. No Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three males, had walked from the gated area across from her as her gate rolled up. This was no longer for her training, but for their amusement. And even though she knew that, she knew that Nelanare had no doubts in her abilities. He was proving her capabilities to his superiors. And she was making him proud.
> 
> Walking out onto the arena floor, her ear tilted as it caught his voice from up in the stands. Speaking to his Commander, who was seated next to him.
> 
> 'You know the only reason I am present for this ridiculous display, is out of courtesy and respect for our Elders!... and for him!'

************

He wouldn't speak to her, he didn't need to. He dared not put a single unwanted thought into her mind, before such an event.

But out there, after she was placed with his nephew, she would have to clear her mind on her own! She wouldn't always have the luxury of being able to prepare for a battle. She would be facing many obstacles, many different kinds of enemies! Anything could happen at any time! And she would have to be ready.

Without him.

Through the gates, the sound of coin being passed back and forth had finally come to a stop.

It was time.

Three males, had walked from the gated area across from her as her gate rolled up. This was truly no longer for her training, but for their amusement. And even though she knew that, she knew that Nelanare had no doubts in her abilities. He was proving her capabilities to his superiors, and she was making him proud.

Walking out onto the arena floor, her ear tilted as it caught his voice from up in the stands. Speaking to his Commander who was seated next to him.

'You know the only reason I am present for this ridiculous display, is out of courtesy and respect for our Elders!... and for him!'

She could literally _hear_ Ancano's forced out breath... _hear_ the irritation in his voice, as he responded! 'She fights for our people! For hers! And our cause! _that_ should matter to you, Ondolemar! Just as it does to me... to us all.'

She could almost envision the haughty Mer, rolling his eyes as Ancano spoke. It was out of pure necessity, that he dealt with and suffered the presence of her people! Even those in the council, ones with the power to have his life ended! He showed respect simply out of duty. And she could tell that he loathed it. It absolutely burned him up!

He felt that the Altmer were above every other race and he wasn't the only Altmer in the order that felt that way. None of them would ever voice it or show it though, they didn't dare.

Ondolemar didn't care for her. He didn't trust her. And every time he was present at Nelanare's gatherings, she sensed it. It literally emanated off from him, like the stench rolling off from a skunk.

He hadn't ever physically tried to hide his disdain for her either. Not even attempting to hide the looks of disgust that showed on his face whenever he would see her.

He also couldn't understand how his comrade could bear to touch her, to be intimate with her. 'He was better than her.'

She had heard this very statement as it had ushered from his lips, at the gathering that Nelanare had hosted after her previous trial. After having more than a few drinks, and having gotten sick of seeing Ancano fawn over her, Ondolemar had pulled him into a corner... verbally chastising him! Loud enough for more than just her to hear.

Ancano had politely taken the hand on his arm and removed it. Looking into his Commander's face, he quietly whispered, 'It is sex... that's all... nothing more. I am simply rewarding her efforts. It is no different than throwing a bone to one of my dogs, after they've performed for me.'

Well... needless to say, he had been more than disappointed that night! For she had heard every single word that had been spoken between them! She hadn't given him the satisfaction of acting hurt. No, she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't ever show weakness to that degree.

Not in front of him... not in front of anyone. What had upset her, was that she'd felt it at all! The fact that it had hurt her... the fact that she had felt the urge to go to Nelanare and cry to him! _That!_ That, was weakness!

And she could never show that to Nelanare, lest he feel she had failed, or that he had failed somehow in training her!

No, she loved him too much. She would bear the burden of her failure alone.

Even as Ondolemar's voice lowered, it was full of pure venom! 'She is a waste of our precious resources, is what she is! What we _should_ be doing, is sending our soldiers and our battle mages into that wretched land! We could finally rid ourselves of those worthless dogs, once and for all!'

Ancano watched as her little ears pinned back, hugging the sides of her head! She didn't look at him, she didn't have to... he knew! Just briefly, he raised his hand, stopping Ondolemar from speaking.

Immediately, his eyes went to Nelanare... who's eyes were directly on him!

Finally tearing his gaze away, he looked at his Commander. A silent plea... they needed to be still! If she were to be injured or fail because of him, not only would he lose the greatest friend and confidant he'd had ever had, but his career and everything he had ever worked for would be gone.

The Nords had breached the Concordat with the stunt in Markarth. The Jarl himself, was lucky to not be in irons! And then to commit treason! That in itself gave them the right to move into their lands, and take the steps necessary to keep order and enforce the laws of the treaty. They both knew that! Ondolemar knew just as he did, that the time for that wasn't now.

The Empire was scrambling to make amends... to right the wrongs done and restore balance. They knew that if Ulfric wasn't stopped soon and trespass continued, the Thalmor would have the right to full on take force of Skyrim!

And the Empire would have to assist them! They would literally have to assist in taking their own by force. They would have no choice.

There was way too much that was riding on her. Skyrim was weak, but not weak enough. Not yet.

Drawing in a slow deep breath through her nose, she righted her ears and moved on ahead. Knowing she would answer for her error later, there was no reason to compound it now by worrying over it. If anything, it taught her a lesson. One she would definitely remember. One that would make her stronger.

Three, and yet not a single magic user among them. Not like her second match. Two Dunmer. Magic users... practically the reason that throwing knives had been invented.

If she had her bow... now, there would have been no match at all. But Nelanare had forbid her to use it during the matches. Stating that he wanted to show her skill in hand to hand combat. But she had practiced against archers. And she had prevailed every single time. Elven archers at that. And were there any better? No.

Except that of her people. And she knew that she would be meeting some of them during their travels, just like magic users.

Of course, her new master Lorundiil, he was a magic user. And yes, she would be thankful for his abilities when the time came. But for now, the ones that used magic were nothing more than a nuisance! And this... this was nothing like a real match in Skyrim would be. No! In a real match, there would be obstacles... trees, stone... whether it be inside of a city, or in the forest. Just like her practices against the archers had been. She would feel more at ease, more in her element.

She couldn't wait!

They were nervous. All of them small. Smaller than her first. And if truth be told, smaller than even the Dunmer, that she had fought in her last match. They were all young. All Nords.

Evidently they had either been told of, or had heard of what had happened to some of the other captives used in these matches. Or, they didn't have a whole lot of fighting experience. Slowly circling them... watching them... she was starting to fear the latter. This was going to be a different type of test.

One that she hadn't faced yet.

One that she hadn't faced... but one that she had seen first hand, over and over in Skyrim before she was brought here. Over the years, she couldn't count how many times she had been witness to unprovoked attacks. Attacks on man and mer alike by animals and wildlife, was normal. The attacks that stuck with her over the years, were the ones by bandits. Men and Mer alike, but the majority of the attackers had been Men, that preyed on others less capable than themselves.

How many times had she wanted to intervene? she couldn't count.

There had only been a few times when she had, that it hadn't endangered her safety, or given away her existence. Risking other's knowledge of her. In most cases, she could only stay silent and watch. She'd had no choice. And those times... they had haunted her.

This had been a lesson that she'd been forewarned against, over and over by her mentor!

The one begging, could be begging just to get her attention away from another attacker. She couldn't let pity sway her in what she must do!

The sweat on their faces, visible from where she stood. Their blue eyes, danced around nervously... almost in unison, they all swallowed, their adam's apples bobbing up and down. If she could have smirked, she would have. It wouldn't have been in humor, but in question. These young men in no way, seemed threatening. They were afraid. But she couldn't show that. She wasn't to show _any_ emotion... none!

This was a tactic that was meant to unnerve her opponent. If they couldn't read her facial expressions... _her_ emotions, they couldn't speculate as to what move she would make next, what her motives were.

Whether she actually felt anything, regarding her actions.

Two in leather armor and one in a tunic and breeches... all wearing low cut, leather shoes. Getting closer... not a single one of them raised their weapons. They watched her... looking at each other. Acting like they wanted to seek help from somewhere else, but were afraid to look into the stands. She knew they were well aware of the rules here!

She was expected to kill them. And if she left any of them alive, they would be killed by their Elven masters! Probably in the most horrible of ways!

There were also hungry guard dogs, that were kept for such occurrences. Not the best of ways to die either.

The closer she got, the more ill at ease they acted... but still, they wouldn't attack... they wouldn't raise their arms. Tilting her head, trying to hide her confusion... she circled. Had they been instructed to just stand there and let her kill them? This was definitely not right... something was off.

The Mer in the stands were silent. Not a sound ushered forth from any of them. This had been orchestrated... it had to be. But that didn't matter. She couldn't drag it out any further.

The two in the armor would be the first to go. It would be expected for her to take the weakest first, the most vulnerable. But that wasn't the wisest move.

He would be easy to take down, only having a dagger and no body armor to protect him. But while she was busy with him, the two that bore swords and armor could come at her. She needed to take them out first.

Breaking into a sprint, they actually shrank from her! Taking steps back, finally swords were raised up in defense! The farthest to the right, the darker haired of them all, raising his free hand to gesture her forth...

The youth in the tunic, turned and ran. She let him go, focusing on the two still before her.

Letting the dagger fly from her left hand, it lodged into the larger of the two's throat. He crumbled to the ground in a heap. One down. Quick.

Now his free hand was no longer taunting her... it was holding his sword along with his other. She dropped into a slide... a cloud of dust, pluming into the air from the arena floor! Gliding the blade of her remaining dagger across the back of his ankle, as she slid past him!

He was down! And he was screaming!

Holding onto his useless leg with one hand, he crawled across the dirt, loosely grasping his blade with the other! She'd been aiming for the tendon in the back of his ankle, but it seemed the bone itself had also been sliced in two. His entire foot was hanging on only by an inch or less... he was going no where.

But she still had one other, and underestimating the one that seemed the most vulnerable could be a mistake as well.

Literally walking over the Nord on the ground, she turned her back to the wall and faced him, so she could look over the rest of the arena. The one in commoner's clothing, was all the way across the arena. It seemed her precaution in this case, had been for naught. Even though it never hurt to be cautious.

Looking down over him, as he slowly came to a stop before her... this could be looked at as an opportunity. If she were a monster she could take advantage of this moment. But then, wouldn't she be just like them?

She was a warrior. _Not_ a murderer! _Not_ a monster! Her eyes flashed between them, his hand pushing him up, just enough to look at her face. He started to beg as she kicked his blade away. Not for himself.

Pain was etched across his face. He was getting paler by the second. The more she looked at him, the younger he seemed. He couldn't have been too much older than she was, if any. Tears made their way down his dirty face, leaving trails. His voice, coming out in a harsh whisper. A string of saliva, fell from his lower lip as it trembled, connecting to the dirt below. "Please... please..."

His brows gathered up, blue eyes pleading. "Th... they're my brothers... we... we had no choice... please!"

She couldn't even respond.

She couldn't even look into the cavea... if she did... even a glance, and they would see that she was seeking something out. Something that would never be shown... leniency!

There would be no mercy.

She couldn't even give him the comfort of knowing that she would make it quick.

Fighting to keep her face from showing emotion, from showing what was flooding throughout her entire being. She stepped over him, grabbed a handful of his hair, and forcing his head back, placed one foot on the middle of his back... she plunged her dagger into the base of his skull!

Releasing him, all she could hear were the screams from what had to be his youngest sibling. Turning to him, calmly she walked, wiping the blade of her dagger onto the front of her leathers. Sliding the blade of it in between her fingers... he had backed up against the stone wall of the arena. His eyes bulging from their sockets, tears ran down his face as he screamed for help! Help that wouldn't be coming.

She wouldn't hear him beg. 

Raising her arm, with a swift downward stroke, she let the blade fly. She swore that he closed his eyes before it hit him.

Those in the stands were silent... there was no cheering. No sound of those that had won coin, rushing to claim it.

She didn't feed... she didn't revel in her glory. For there was nothing in this, but shame.

Not shame to them... no! They watched her... _he_ watched her. They had been waiting for her to show a sign of weakness. That's what this whole match had been about! And she had.

Even though she had killed them, she did not enjoy it. And _that_ was where her weakness lay, as far as _they_ were concerned! One of _them_ would have! They would have made all of those boys suffer! Even as helpless as they all had been. They would have made them suffer, and they would have delighted in it!

Looking up into the stands... looking at him, she knew what he had expected from her. And as much as she fought to contain it, the look on her face showed her disgust.

She didn't retrieve her dagger... she didn't go near him. She simply turned and walked into the holding chamber... toward Nelanare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel it necessary to go into great depth over the fighting scene. Her lesson and her memories, and how it all makes her feel, was more important to the chapter. There will be a lot of fighting coming up that will be told in great detail very shortly.  
> **Also, please don't get me wrong here. I love the Altmer, and am a Mer fanatic at heart. I absolutely adore Ancano, even tho he's a bit of an asshole, I have to have him in every story that I write. I also love Ondolemar. Remember, my Dovah in this is an Altmer. I love the Nords too... pretty much all the races. So don't let the prejudice get you down. There are going to be many chapters that I could say that before, because this story will be abs rife with it! If you get angry or sad, just remember that it is my goal in this to make you feel everything that you will hopefully feel. I ask that all that are reading simply see it through to the end. Even though it may prove to be difficult at times.** ^-^


	34. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately, her eyes flew up to him! Relief shone in them. "The ones that needed to die... died. It was swift. It was done in... in a professional manner. Regardless of the fact that you did not enjoy it, did not sway you. You did what had to be done!"
> 
> She remained silent, watching him... reading him. And as much as he hated to say it... it was necessary. He had to. "Just as you did when you were but a Elfling."
> 
> Even knowing the reaction that his words would bring in her, he didn't regret them. They rang true!

************

His stare cut through her as she approached. She entered and stopped, standing still. Waiting.

He remained silent as he raised his hand signaling his guard, quickly and quietly, they led her out.

Bathed and rubbed down, he sat with her as a handmaiden combed through her long hair with rich oils. Another servant sat selecting the locks, that she would braid her matching beads into. This was to be the last social gathering until her departure. Everything must be perfect!

Already with how she had reacted during the match, there would be questions once the guests arrived. He couldn't expect anything less. They were after all, his superiors. They were funding his entire project... her. They would want to know that should she encounter weakness among her enemies... their enemies, that she would be strong enough to do what was necessary!

She sat, wearing the same exact outfit from the last gathering. The one that she knew had appealed to him so very much. The night that he had been dreading. He had known what was going to happen.

Ancano hadn't been able to stay away from her all night. And he had tried so very hard not to watch. And then to watch without being noticed, when he realized that he didn't have it within himself to look away! To appear nonchalant about the whole affair.

Just as the gathering was winding down for the night, and he was expecting to take his leave to the spare apartment on his property, she had literally turned on her heel, and walked away from the Wizard, coming to his side.

Needless to say, he had been more than surprised. She had literally stood behind him, as he sat and conversed. Curling her little bare leg around his midsection, stroking his ear... his hair. He was more than just surprised. He had been relieved.

Even as he looked up and saw Ancano standing there staring at them, at her with absolute envious, rage written all over his face! Every ounce of pride in him, literally blazed into a furious inferno!

He knew that she was doing it to make his once pupil, jealous. Possibly even to teach him a much needed lesson. But that didn't matter! She was wrapped around _him!_ She would be in _his_ bed that night! With _him!_ Not with Ancano!

Sitting across from her, he watched her closely. She was stewing over it. She was waiting for him to speak first. Her little black brows were pinched up in concern. Her lips rolled inward as she nibbled on the inside of them, rubbing her teeth over them, incessantly fretting.

Placing his elbows onto his knees, he folded his hands placing his chin atop them. "You did not fail Sunnabe."

Immediately, her eyes flew up to him! Relief shone in them. "The ones that needed to die... died. It was swift. It was done in... in a professional manner. Regardless of the fact that you did not enjoy it, did not sway you. You did what had to be done!"

She remained silent, watching him... reading him. And as much as he hated to say it... it was necessary. He had to. "Just as you did, when you were but a Elfling."

Even knowing the reaction that his words would bring in her, he didn't regret them. They rang true!

Painful realization flooded into her face, her eyes! Standing, he turned. He couldn't see her this way right now. She knew that he had used it! He had used what she had told him, and he had turned it into a lesson! 

He only hoped that she would forgive him. Something deep inside told him that she would.

But even knowing that, he still couldn't face her. If he did... he would lose it. And he couldn't do that right now, not in front of his servants. Not with everyone that was soon to be arriving. He had to maintain composure... control.

Swallowing, he stared at the door... speaking quietly. "I will await you in my chambers. I intend to escort you tonight."

His hands grasped one another, attempting to wipe off the sweat from his palms. His back, rigid! Shoulders back, "I realize that this will be your last time with him, but until... until that moment, you will be on my arm!"

Briefly he turned and glanced at her, knowing that the so apparent pain in his voice had betrayed him! Watching her as she nodded. Opening the door he walked out, closing it behind him.

Moving straight to the bar that lay opposite his sitting area, he pushed aside the wine and the brandy. Taking hold of the painted, clay jar, he sliced through the wax seal, pouring himself a glass. The only thing keeping his pain under control right now, was knowing that they would still have _their_ time. That he still had several weeks with her until she sailed.

If anything, he was the one that had failed! He was in love with her, and he was hurting. And she could sense it.

There had been no way around it. At least he had accomplished what he'd set out to do with her. It would be at his own expense this time... she loved him, and she would do anything for him. Countless nights he had laid awake, contemplating that revelation. What it meant. What the ramifications could be. Thinking over the anguish that he would go through once she left him.

Closing his eyes against the burn that slid down his throat, he took in a deep breath, waiting for it to kick in. One more glass may be in order, and then he would feel exquisite! This... this was the only way that he could endure allowing her to go with him tonight. One... last... night.

**********

By the time he stepped through the doorway, her vision had blurred to the point that she could no longer see him. She could no longer feel the comb sliding through her hair...

What she saw... was his training room. His teaching room. Him, sitting at the table opposite from her. Him, wearing his casual clothes... burgundy silken shirt, open at the chest. His long, white locks, pulled back into a gold threaded tie. The green of his eyes.

The early morning sunlight, shining into the room. The sheer curtains, as they billowed from the ocean breeze that constantly filled his home.

The smell of the salt air.

They had broken fast. Pheasant eggs with biscuits and tea. She had been with him now, for quite some time. Long enough to have mastered all the languages. Man and Mer alike. They were now going over the ancient ones that were no longer in use.

When she wasn't practicing the art of warfare, she was reciting history to him, while they perfected her alchemy. If truth be told, it was _his_ favorite thing to do.

It relaxed him. And she absolutely delighted in it. Which made it all the more fun for him! Her actually teaching _him_ what she had learned over her lifetime in the wilds, had rekindled his passion for the subject! And she could watch him... not even attempting to hide the smile that would cover her face, as he lost himself in it.

She could have spent every minute of every day, watching him at that table. A table so worn from use, that numerous times repairs had been needed to keep it functional.

His favorite thing... and already, she loved him so.

 _This_ was something that she would miss dearly. Something that she would think about in times that she needed comfort, in times that she needed warmth. When she no longer had the feel of his touch... the sound of his voice.

She would lock it away.

Today she would be getting another visit from the Mer, that was to be in time, her new Master. But first, another lesson.

He had told her that morning, that it was time for him to know. He had waited long enough, and could wait no more. He felt that she was now, after all this time, in the proper mental and emotional state to be able to call forth her memories and let loose of her pain. Enough to learn more from it, than she had growing up.

And _he_ as her teacher, could aid her in this! But the only way for him to do that, was for her to dig deep down inside of herself and set it free.

He had set his teacup down, a calm expression on his face. "I want you to tell me Sunnabe... what happened that day."

She could feel the tightening in her chest, just as she had that morning. That terrible dread... the pain she knew, would accompany this. The very reason that she'd always tried to avoid remembering. 

He leaned forward in his chair... his hand, moving to cover hers. "Sunnabe... you must master this! For if you do not, it will master you! It will control you!"

His eyes had gleamed so fiercely! And she knew that he was right! She could no longer fear the past. She needed to learn from it!

His voice so soft... so soothing. "Tell me Sunnabe... how long did it take you to make your first kill."

Closing her eyes, she pushed away from the table and slowly stood. Barefooted, wearing only a short skirt and halter, her hair braided, hanging down over one shoulder. She raised her hands and held onto the thick braid... taking in a deep breath. "I.. I do not remember everything."

Crossing his legs, he sat back... and listened.

Turning from him... she began to pace, holding her braid. "We.. we were camped by the riverside... I was playing." 

Turning back to him, the knuckles on her hands had gone almost white, from the grip she had on her hair. Tiny beads of sweat, now dampened her brow. "My doll.... "

Her eyes lost their focus... "My doll... my mother had made her for me. She was my only memory of my home... the one we lost..."

Taking in a ragged breath, she squeezed her eyes closed! "My bow was slung over my back. It was a new gift... a welcoming of our new home. Made from the rib bone of a wolf. My Ata, he had carved it down... fitting it to my size. Our lineage, he had carved by hand into it. So that I would never forget..."

Tears made their way down her face. Nelanare sat forward...

"Suddenly! My Ata... he grabbed me! He knelt down..." Sinking down to her knees, she had gone... she was no longer there with him. He watched her... riveted, as she began to rock back and forth. Her arms slowly coming up to wrap around herself.

"He looked so scared! He looked me right in the eyes... and he told me! 'Sunnabe! Stay hidden! Stay silent! No matter what you hear! Do you understand me!'

Her voice spiraled higher! He now was bent over, his elbows on his knees, hands covering his mouth, almost able to envision what she spoke of! 

"My mother had drawn her daggers... and... I.. I could hear someone coming!"

Her eyes now opened to him! Her face such a mask of panic and pain! Almost as if she were pleading to him... licking her lips. "I couldn't see them!! All I could see was my Ata! Trying to hide his fear! He kissed me... 'Remember... silent!' shoving me up that tree!!"

The far away look, was now back in her eyes. Snot ran down her lips... her body quaked from her grief! She cried out! "I don't remember!! I don't remember! what he said to her!! It was in his tongue, not ours. I hugged the tree... hidden in the needles! One hand over my mouth! One ear pressed against it!!"

Shaking her head! Tears flew from her face, splattering the stone floor! "I didn't want to hear! Lightning! It cracked, over and over... and she screamed! She screamed! I could hear her dying... "

Finally, her hands left her shoulders and covered up her face, sobbing into her hands as she rocked back and forth. "I could hear him! I could hear him laughing! And I had to be so quiet!!"

A cloth touching her face, startled her out of it! She jerked, opening her eyes to him. He was kneeling before her, drying her tears. The most caring and sympathetic look on his face. "It's alright Sunnabe... tell me what you remember now."

"Everything got quiet... real quiet."

He sat before her. Their legs crossed, he gently held her hands. Her eyes wide, "One of them... not the one that had killed my mother... he was angry with the other. Then they were digging, and going through our things. I could hear... and then it got quiet again."

Lifting her hands, he helped her stand up walking her back over to the table. He lifted her teacup and had her take a sip. Trying to get her to sit, she just shook her head, turning once more to pace about. "They used our camp. They sat before the fire, and they waited for me. I could hear them whispering... the one, chastising the other! "

Turning to him, she stopped... staring at him. "They did this for three days! Three whole days! Waiting for me to come out from hiding!"

She looked down at the floor, over to the spot where at one point, her collar and chain had been connected to the wall, and a mark had been drawn across the stone... the spot where her cage had been.

Nelanare followed her gaze. 

"They used my tongue... trying to soothe me, trying to tempt me out with food. Telling me that it would be alright, that they meant me no harm!"

Walking over to the spot in the wall... she felt of it. The chain, no longer there. Walking over to the floor, she knelt down... her fingers rubbing over the mark, still visible, that she had made. That he had left there in his pride, over her achievement that day. 

"I always had a small pouch tied to me. It held enough dried meat to last me a few days, and a small animal stomach that held water. If I rationed it, I could survive in the instance that I got separated from my parents."

Turning to him once again, she walked to the table and sat down. "Very, very quietly, I had nibbled on that meat. Not daring to move to drink, until I knew that they slept! And I made it last, until they finally gave up and went away!"

Taking another sip of her tea, she slowly shook her head. "Even after they left, I was too terrified to make a sound." An errant tear, made it's way down her cheek... lifting his hand, he gently wiped it away.

"Did you see your parent's graves? Where they rested?" Leaning forward, he held the side of her face. "Sunnabe... "

Briefly, she placed her hand over his. "No... I couldn't look down! I was afraid at what I might see, and I hurt so badly! I wanted to have them back _so badly!_ but I knew they were gone. And all of our supplies, things that could've helped me, had more than likely been used up by their murderers!"

At the time, their supplies had been the farthest thing from her mind, but over the years she had thought about it. She had thought of perhaps, how she might have done things differently. How it may have changed her situation, perhaps making things easier than they'd been. But in the end... she was but a tiny Mer, who had just been witness to something so horrific! She had lost everything, and she was terrified! 

She had done, just what her Ata had told her to do! She _did_ what she must!

She'd remained hidden... and silent.

Shoving back away from the table once more, his hand fell away and she stood, turning again to the area at which she had been chained. "I had soiled myself. I was freezing... wet, and my stomach hurt so badly. Finally, it was hunger that made me move."

"I left that spot, moving through the branches very quietly, from tree to tree. I never once looked back. The whole time that I lived there, I knew where the spot was, and I couldn't make myself go back to it. What was the point?"

He nodded, sitting back, trying to fight the apprehension that had started to grow inside of him. The way she kept staring at her first training area.

"I must have gone at least two miles in the opposite direction from which they had gone, and came upon a small camp of men. I stayed hidden in the trees... watching them, and waiting through the night. They cooked over a spit..."

Her hands went to her stomach, her shoulders curling inward. "I hurt so bad from hunger! I remember sitting in those trees... watching them and waiting. The smell of the meat cooking, had been almost too much to bear! I was drooling and weeping. But I had to remain hidden!"

Turning to him, she shook her head. "I wouldn't have been safe with them!"

He shook his head, swallowing. "No... you were right to stay hidden. They would have harmed you, then they would have killed you or sold you."

The look on her face right then, made his stomach churn! Did she feel the same way about him? Was she placing _him_ into that very same category?

Turning from him, she stared down at the mark on the stones. "They remained awake for most of the night, posting a guard while the rest slept. I had wedged myself into the crevice of two large branches that met, and I finally slept. I must have passed out from exhaustion... because..."

Bringing her hands up to her face, her body shook from her sobs! "When I woke... they had gone! I scanned the camp sight, still too terrified to leave the trees! There was not a scrap of food to be seen! Just empty bottles and the fire pit!"

Taking her hands, she wiped furiously at her face! "When I had about gotten up the courage to climb down, I heard someone approaching! A single man, he was dressed in furs... an old iron sword, dangling from his hip."

She turned to him! "That wouldn't have mattered! _I was so hungry!_ That I didn't care what kind of weapon he had! I was ravenous! _I was in so much pain!_ When he passed under the tree, I could smell him! _I could smell him!_ "

Tears ran down her face, dripping from her chin and jawline. Her eyes were still so far away and yet pleading. As if he could change _any_ of what had happened!

"I was watching him... holding a sharpened piece of bone that my mother had given me!" Her hands, coming up as if she still held it! It was as if he were almost there! Seeing what she saw!

"I leapt down onto his back! _MY TEETH!_ sinking into the back of his neck, until I could feel bone! I held onto him for dear life! and I brought that bone down! Into his throat! _OVER AND OVER!_ He whirled around! Screaming! Trying to _pry_ me off! Until finally, he'd lost enough blood... and he went down."

The look that he had on his face, had been a complete mix of awe, sympathy.. and respect.

Finally, she walked back to their table and sat down... looking at him. She was back. Her eyes clear and lucid as she spoke. "I sat on top of him, and I cut through the furs. I cut through his back, pulling out the meat from around his spine... and I ate. Constantly watching... and listening."

That kill had changed her. The need to survive. She took everything she had ever seen her mother and her Ata do, and she used it! "It took me most of the day to pull him into the brush... to cover my tracks, and take what I could find from their camp sight. I used everything on him that I could. Even to the point of saving his bones to make arrows. I made new clothing from his furs, and what remained of their tent, I used as blankets."

Looking down at her hands, she lifted the cup... taking a sip. "I slept in the crook of those branches for weeks. _That_ was my first makeshift home. Just two or three miles from where it all took place. But that first kill... those first days... my hands bled from the work. And I finally calmed enough once I had new coverings, to heal the burns on my bottom and legs, from being in my own waste for so long."

Setting down the cup, she looked up at him. "Once I made that first kill, I knew that I could do it! I could survive! It also showed me that while at that time I had no choice but to scavenge, at some point, my goal became to live on my own. To be independent of other Men... or Mer."

Sitting back against the wall, he crossed his legs... his fingers caressing over the rim of his cup. He stilled, finally raising it to take a drink. "Do you know what your name means? Sunnabe?"

"Yes... it means Blessed."

"And are you? Are you blessed Sunnabe? "

The look she gave him was not one of sorrow. It was one of courage... of strength! Determination!

"Yes!"

Leaning forward, his green eyes locked with hers, staring into deep golden amber... "And why is that?"

"Because _I am still alive!"_


	35. Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I simply want to know who pleases you more? I will not tell him... you need not worry over that.'
> 
> It was his pride... and she'd lied. 'You do... '
> 
> He grinned! A smug look overtaking him as he stood up from the bed and began to get dressed. Giving her a quick glance as he retied his leggings. 'I know you may feel Sunnabe, that perhaps things would be better for you if I were your Master. I can assure you, they would not! He has rules that I have to follow... strict ones at that!'
> 
> Now fully dressed, he turned to her before he'd walked out the door. 'If you were mine, there would be none.'

In her place, one hundred candles burning  
As salty sweat drips from her breasts  
Her hips move and I can feel what they're sayin, swayin  
They say the beast inside of me's gonna get ya, get ya, yeah...

***********

Taking a deep breath as she came back to the present, looking down at the floor as the two Altmer females finished with her hair. She had questioned him that day, after they were done. 'Estormo... he had been the one... hadn't he?'

Nelanare had nodded, he didn't look away. 'Yes, he was one that I know of for certain.'

She hadn't gotten angry, honestly she'd known all along that he was. She recognized his voice that day in the woods, as he fawned over her while she lay paralyzed. The longer she was around him, the more it confirmed her feelings... her suspicions. There was _no way_ that she would ever forget his voice! The way that he had laughed, while her mother lay dying at his hands... the horrible, twisted things he had said to her! 

The fact that bastard's face had been the last thing that she had seen, and his voice, the last thing she had heard before she had succumbed to death! She wanted him to suffer! 

And he would.

But she had wanted the truth and she'd gotten it. That was all that mattered! And in time, she would find out who the other one was. Even though he'd done most of the speaking after the killing was over, for some reason she couldn't remember his voice. 

That revelation had plagued her! More so especially now, because she knew who her mother's murderer was! And she knew that very, very soon, she would finally be in a position to get her hands on him! And yet, with being this close to getting the revenge that she had for so long deserved, she was still coming up empty! 

She could remember every word the other one had spoken. Every single word. But yet his voice was still lost to her.

**********

From the time he'd arrived, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off from her. Even with all he now knew, he couldn't think of anything else. And that alone... the fact that she had such a hold on him, plagued him! His eyes followed her...

Tiny, standing at just four foot, nine inches tall. She'd actually finished any growing that she would do, since she'd been with his Mentor. Barefooted, she wore the tiniest doeskin skirt that just barely covered her backside, and a matching halter, dyed in beautiful black and deep greens.

Hand carved wooden beads, dangling from the hem. Every inch of her exquisitely toned legs, just begging to be stroked by him. Her tiny, firm bottom, swaying behind her hair as she walked over to Nelanare... her head, turning to him just briefly to give him the most decadent of looks from under her long satiny lashes. Hair, now long enough for her to sit upon, flung over her bare shoulder. 

She purposely moved her hair just to tease him all the more, giving him the perfect view of her little ass. Had she not, it would have all but been hidden to him.

She was teasing him.

He swallowed, raising his goblet to sip, watching her as she put on her little display that only they seemed to be aware of. The last opportunity they'd had to be together had been wasted. Simply because he'd voiced what he'd needed to in order to appease his old comrade and she had overheard. 

That hadn't been how he'd actually felt though. Far from it! After what had happened at the arena today, Nelanare had actually insisted that Ondolemar not attend the night's gathering. 

It wasn't as if he planned to attend anyway. And he'd taken great pains to assure Ondolemar that tonight was the last time that he intended to see her before they departed. 

Finally getting Nelanare's approval to have Estormo reinstated, he'd told Ondolemar that he would be traveling along with them. He'd actually thought it odd for a moment that Nelanare was the one to bring it up the night that they'd spoken. Saying that he'd already gotten his travel papers approved, they were in Estormo's possession. The Mer was ecstatic and packing as they spoke.

Standing out on Nelanare's porch, he'd stood there frozen, holding his goblet and watching the look that had taken over his mentor's face, the coldness in his eyes. Every hair on him had stood on end, his stomach twisting up in knots. Setting the wine down, a cold sweat broke out on his face. He swallowed, "What are your intentions Nelanare... does she know?!"

Very calmly, the old Mer turned his gaze away and looked out over the ocean. _"My intentions_ are to have him away from the Isles, where he will soon be within her grasp."

Completely unable to control the look of pure shock on his face, he gaped at him, glad that he had thought to release his goblet lest it would be all over the wooden planks at his feet. "She knows then! You... you told her?!"

Nelanare turned to face him! A look of pure insult on his face! "I did no such thing! She remembered his voice from the attack on her parents! It became more clear to her as time went on and as she spent more time in his presence."

His head was spinning, heart pounding. He'd gotten up and walked to the railing. Holding onto it, he looked out over the water. "Does she remember mine as well?" The thought of her possibly knowing and him being unaware had sent chills down his spine! 

He regretted being with her now, he could see how important she was to his Mentor and now there was a rift between them... all over her! His chest clenched up in pain! For his mentor to think of him in this fashion, when he hadn't even wanted to kill them! He hadn't wanted what had happened to her mother to happen! He turned around leaning his backside against the railing, Nelanare just sat there watching him.

"She doesn't remember you at all... you would know if she did. She definitely wouldn't be intimate with you if she did." 

He would throw his pride aside this once, only for this Mer. He had to tell him... if this was his last chance. "Nelanare, you are... so... "

Standing, he'd raised his hand, cutting him off. "Spare yourself the agony of speaking your feelings Ancano." Walking over to stand next to him, he'd stared out at the sea. "I know how I am held in your heart. It does not need to be spoken for me to know." 

Finally he turned to him, looking into his eyes. "You are held dear in mine as well. And no... I do not put you into the same category as Estormo. But I will warn you, if she ever realizes that it _is_ you, that is the other... there will be nothing that I, nor anyone else can do to save you."

Ancano watched his aging mentor as he looked away, hearing his words, feeling the dread that began to settle deep into his very core. "You had to have known that this would be a possibility, and yet you chose to get as close to her as you could. Intimacy was not necessary and yet you couldn't help yourself. She only needed to know you and have some trust in you, that was all. And that was only for us to have eyes and ears on that side of things, to have a communication link. If she finds out now, her feeling of betrayal will be just that much more severe."

Still holding his wine, he raised it and took a long drink. Turning to him one last time, "It is not a question of me placing her before you. It is as I told you when you first saw her... his blood is owed to her, and yours as well. As much as it would pain me to lose you... " he shook his head slowly, "You need to be cautious... and alert. Sooner or later she will get to _him,_ and she will kill him. And I can guarantee you that it will not be pleasant. It is all she's thought about... it is her fantasy, if you will."

Coming back to the present, he downed the brandy in his hand, his eyes coming back up to meet his Mentor's... he'd been watching him. Watching him agonize over it all. Tearing his eyes away, he turned shoving it from his mind and walked towards her. They would be leaving the gathering early! He had to take this last opportunity before he lost his nerve. If he did that, she would know something was wrong.

**********

The voices around him faded as he watched his once pupil take hold of her arm and lead her away. Disappearing through the doors that led to the living quarters of his estate, he raised his goblet downing his drink, attempting to focus on the conversation around him. It was to no avail.

He knew what plagued Ancano, and it wasn't leaving her. It was _how would he be safe from her once they were there._ It was _how could he keep Estormo out of her reach._

A smile actually touched his lips, and he fought to conceal it. _Or would he end up sacrificing the one that he'd taken such pains to protect for so long, in attempt to save himself? That in itself may be his undoing._

He loved Ancano, he really did. He'd always been one of his closest students, and he would truly suffer if something happened to him. But the life they led in the order was not without it's risks. There was always a chance that something could happen, and with him going there, amongst their enemies, it was a very real possibility that he would never see him again. Ancano knew this as well. He had dedicated his life to the Thalmor, he knew nothing else.

While he would suffer over his loss, he would not deny her. He loved her, and even if he hadn't, he felt that she was owed. She would have justice! And when it was his time, he would be able to go to his deathbed, knowing that it was _him,_ that had put it within her reach!

_He_ had given her back what she'd lost out on, from living her life in the wilds... civility, education, and knowledge. In all actuality, he'd given her more than what she would've ever accomplished had she never lost her family. 

He could never remove the loss she'd felt and suffered though... he could never give them back to her. But he _had_ given her the opportunity to have a full life now... as a Mer, a powerful and brilliant warrior! Now she could choose _how_ she lived, instead of the only choice being that of an animal. And _he_ was the one that had given that to her! That knowledge was the only thing that would help him deal with the hurt that he knew was coming. 

Three more weeks...

Reaching over to fill his goblet, he let the smile overtake him... Ancano would have to be very careful.

************

Walking out the back door of the Estate's main house, he led her to the small apartment on the grounds. For this last night with her, he wanted to make sure they would be uninterrupted. Propriety also demanded it! He didn't want to have to stay his cries over fear that a guest may hear them. When he had sex with _anyone,_ he wanted to be able to relax and enjoy it, not have nagging thoughts in his mind that ruined the experience.

Though she remained quiet while they walked, she constantly looked up at his face, trying to read the emotions there. Opening the door, he led her inside, not waiting to get to the bedroom, he turned and gently pushed her up against the wall, nudging the door closed with his foot. He was already hard, straining uncomfortable against the soft leggings he wore. 

Her hands instinctively rested up on his chest, nuzzling her face into him, her hips were already rocking against his legs needily. Both breathing slower and deeper, he reached down and grasping her under the arms, picked her up. Her legs instantly wrapping around him, she let her head fall back until it touched the wall behind her. 

His hands clutched at the doeskin skirt, frantically ripping it free from her! She cried out! grabbing at his shirt, tearing at the buttons to get it away from his skin! Taking hold of her by the neck, his mouth crashed into hers, roughly forcing his tongue against hers, tasting her! She was so ready, he could feel her wetness against his midsection, soaking into the silk shirt that was now hanging in tatters.

Holding onto her, he pushed them away from the wall heading toward the bedroom. Kicking the doors open, he tossed her to the bed, she pulled off the halter and tossed it to the floor, watching him as he undressed before her. She loved the light golden color of his skin, his slender but toned form... and his cock. So long and curved, as it jutted out proudly from his body. 

The head on him was actually a bit smaller than his full girth, making it easier and more painless to breach her than her Master's. She watched it bob as he finally kicked off his leggings and climbed onto the bed, grabbing her legs roughly, he spread them wide! Growling out as he looked down at her, his need written all over his face! 

What he wanted to do, was bite her! Bite her so fucking hard that she would cry out! She awoke something in him... something primal! Something that took ferocity to quench! The last time they'd coupled, he'd bitten her so hard that she'd bled a little. And then he'd sucked on the wound, tasting her blood... licking it! That simple act alone, had brought her to climax. 

She craved it rough! It brought out the animal that was still ingrained so deeply within her, and he relished it! He wanted a willing partner always... but a partner that liked it rough, one that was willing to play was even better. 

Avoiding her mouth, he was never one to kiss heavily. Kissing was too personal. It was too easy for whomever his partner was, to feel that he actually felt for them. He didn't want to give the wrong impression, or leave the individual thinking there was more to their act than there actually was. Whenever he had sex, it was fucking... there was no love involved. He wanted her, he lusted for her, but he did not love her.

Lowering down, he suckled on her neck, slowly moving to her breasts, nipping on the dark nipples, so hard that they stood out! Taking one into his mouth, he sucked hard! They were the perfect size! So small that he could almost fit her entire breast into his mouth. Her nipples were a beautiful dark chocolate in color, darker than the rest of her, and they called to him. He chewed on them, gently kneading and rolling them between his teeth, dabbing at the tips with his tongue.

She ground her wet sex into his hip as he moved lower... he could actually smell her. The scent that she gave off during sex was completely overpowering, making it all that much harder to resist taking her the way that he wanted to!

He sat up, looking down at her. The skin on her chest and neck was mottled with crimson. Beads of sweat dotted her face, her eyes were heavy lidded as she breathed through open lips. Taking her legs, he pushed them both up to her, prodding her to hold them.

Each arm, now hooked around the back of each knee, her little ass was shown to him. His eyes combed over her. So wet, that her juices had run down over her dark little pucker, now glistening in the dim light of the room. The apex of her thighs was drenched, the soft downy hairs that graced her sex clung to her dark skin. His eyes moving back up to the place he really wanted... the only thing that he really couldn't have. She'd begged him and begged him, and each time he'd declined until she finally stopped asking. He'd made a promise to Nelanare and he wouldn't break it.

He'd tasted her, running his tongue through the sweet folds of her, even going so far as to push it into that tight little center. But so far, that was the most daring he'd been. Moving his hips in closer, he held his length, teasingly sliding the head through her folds, his eyes moving up to hers, taking in her expression as he lightly pushed against her. The way her eyes widened and her mouth opened... Au-riel, she wanted it so badly! Frantically she rocked her hips, sliding over his head, attempting to push him in further!

Backing away just a bit, he let go of his cock, letting it spring back up against his abdomen and lowered his hand to her. Running his fingers through her wetness, she wriggled against him, throwing her head back into the pillows, she cried out in frustration!

Bringing just his pinky up, he pushed the tip in. Turning it around inside of her, he pulled it back out as he watched her squirm. Fingers nice and coated, sliding his middle finger down, he pushed against her tight little ring and slid it all the way in! Watching as she stiffened up, and moaned out. Buried to the point that his hand could go no further, he moved his thumb up and began slow hard circles around her clit, bringing it down briefly to run through her center, then back up. Pulling his hand back, he added his index finger to the middle one and pushed them in.

Her long hair clung to her sweat covered skin as she thrashed around, her bottom seemingly anchored to the spot where his fingers had breached her! She cried out! Withdrawing almost all the way, he plunged them back in! 

Taking his hand away, he dropped down onto the bed next to her, and reached over to the nightstand for the bottle that was always there. Handing it to her, she immediately knew what he wanted. She got up onto her knees and uncorked the bottle, running the oils over his head, watching it run down the sides of his swollen length and into the fine white hair that graced it's base.

Taking the bottle from her, he put the stopper back in and tossed it aside, closing his eyes and sucking in a quick breath as she stroked him. Gods! He opened up his eyes, "Get over me... turn around, and hold your hair back!"

On her feet, she straddled him and took hold, running his oiled head over her ass. Sinking down just a little, she clenched her eyes up against the burn. Lifting back up just for a moment, she lowered again, bearing down slightly as she did, taking in his head. Just for a moment she stopped, allowing herself to adjust, hearing him behind her as he fought to control his breathing. His body tensed and his hands suddenly gripped her hips as he began slowly pushing her down onto his length. 

Relaxing her body, she swallowed him up until he was so far inside of her that she could almost sit on him. She almost wished that she could see his face, but she knew he didn't want that. That being the reason he'd had her turn around. He couldn't stand showing anyone that he was losing it... that he actually felt. But with the noises that were coming out of his mouth and the way his movements became more and more frantic, she knew what she was doing to him. 

He didn't have to move her. She had amazing strength in her legs... all over her body. She rose and fell on him and he held her. More to just have some bit of control, than to help her. But when he wanted to speed her up, this way he could aid her... show her what he wanted.

His eyes moved over her toned back, her firm little ass, and that dark little hole stretched wide around him, crushing his length inside of her sheath! What he wanted was to take her hard! To plunge into her so fucking hard that she would scream... but he didn't dare. She was so small that he could barely fit his entire length in her ass, if he'd been in her where he wanted to be, it would've been all the worse.

There was a reason why their two races hadn't intermarried very often. Even though the Bosmer females were quite striking in appearance and often sought after for pleasure, they were tiny. Much smaller than the Altmer females, often causing severe complications during childbirth. It was the same with the Dunmer females. 

It would be no different than if she'd stayed with her Nord. Sorcal had told him of the giant Nord that she had loved. If they'd tried to mate, it could have been disastrous for her. Having a child that would be much larger than that of a Bosmer newborn could tear her apart from the inside. And if it didn't injure her to the point of never being able to bear another, it could kill her.

He'd been with many Bosmer and Dunmer, males and females alike. It was a thrill to be with one that was so much smaller than he. But the downside was having to take care with them, lest they be injured during sex.

Never getting the thrill he craved from the females of his own race, he sought out either a male Altmer or those of the other Mer races. There was no way he would ever mount a Nord. Even thinking about it filled him with disgust.

He closed his eyes, simply feeling the inside of her, rubbing one hand along her back. What sent him over the edge, was her little hand moving to his length, her fingers sliding over him as she tightened her muscles around him! He arched his back, groaning out as she felt all over where they were joined. Finally, he could take no more! Reaching up he grabbed her hair and pulled her down on top of him!

Growling into her ear as he roughly slapped her legs apart! "Spread your fucking legs for me!" 

She squealed out, as both of his hands grabbed onto her inner thighs, holding them open as far as they would go! His thrusts came harder and faster, he cried out between his clenched teeth! "Fuuuck!!" 

She wouldn't cry out... she wouldn't. She would growl, she would whine even, but when she was ready to cum she couldn't make noise. His long fingers moved to her sex, pulling her apart, sliding his fingers through her as his cock slid in and out of her sensitive hole. The farther open her legs were in this position, the harder she would climax... and he knew it. 

He was hitting her in all the right places. Two slender fingers held her outer lips apart, as his other hand came down in a slap onto her swollen clit! Once... twice... his body tensed! Feeling him stop inside of her, pulsing as his hot seed filled her, his fingers literally covered her as she sprayed out! Coating his entire hand! 

They didn't lay together. There was no cuddling or snuggling the way she did with her Master. He literally took hold of her shoulders and sat her up, pushing her off from his shrinking member. Almost as if to say, the deed was done, now get away from me! Even though he never said this, he always acted the same. Before and during sex, he acted like he couldn't get enough of her. Then after, it was like he felt he'd been sullied and had to get clean.

Nelanare never acted this way, and he was in a much higher position than Ancano could ever hope to be! He was of royal blood! He was very powerful. She knew this, because he had taught her all their inner workings. She knew all there was to know about the Altmer people and the Thalmor. And though Ancano had come from a wealthy and pure bloodline, he was still just a Senior Wizard in their ranks. 

She couldn't compare them... there was no comparison. This was just sex. With Nelanare, even when it was wild and wanton between them, they made love. It was never this.

Their very first time she'd tried to hold him, and for just a brief second he'd obliged before he pushed her away. He'd looked over at her, both of them covered in sweat, his long white hair still clinging to his skin. 'I want to know Sunnabe... whom do you prefer. Who satisfies you more?'

She couldn't hide the puzzled look that came over her, she'd felt almost afraid. She didn't want to betray her Master or hurt him! She would never do that! How could she compare? Things were so different between them. Finally he asked her again, an almost agitated look on his golden face. 'I simply want to know who pleases you more? I will not tell him... you need not worry over that.'

It was his pride... and she'd lied. 'You do... '

He grinned! A smug look overtaking him as he stood up from the bed and began to get dressed. Giving her a quick glance as he retied his leggings. 'I know you may feel Sunnabe, that perhaps things would be better for you if I were your Master. I can assure you, they would not! He has rules that I have to follow... strict ones at that!' Now fully dressed, he turned to her before he'd walked out the door. 'If you were mine, there would be none.'

That answer had plagued her... what he'd said had plagued her! Until she had finally felt she had to tell Nelanare! She'd sobbed to him, telling him that she'd felt she had to give Ancano the answer that he desired! That it was not how she really felt! And that she had feared he would gloat about it and that it may hurt him... making him doubt her feelings for him.

He'd held her, thanking her for her honesty. Telling her that Ancano's weakness had always been his pride, that it made numerous decisions for him... decisions that were not wise. He told her that she needed to use it as a lesson. For it was a good one. 

He also knew that in her spilling her feelings to him over something that she really didn't have to confide, he could trust her... fully. That even though she was attracted to Ancano, her heart and loyalty belonged to him and him alone.

This final time was different than all the others before. He was colder than before, more distant. If that were possible. Getting up, he walked around the bed to his discarded clothes that lay on the floor, bending over to retrieve them. As soon as he'd stood, she felt the need to cover up, pulling at the sheets until she was covered enough to feel secure.

Just the way he'd treated her... was treating her, was making her stomach feel uneasy. He'd never been loving, they both knew it was just mutual desire that they were acting on. But he'd never been this rude... this harsh with her. Even the times that he was quite rough, he'd acted like he at least still wanted her. Now he was acting like he couldn't get away fast enough.

Pulling on what remained of his clothing, he pulled his sweat dampened hair back into a tie. Completely silent, he walked to the bedside stand and poured a cupful of wine, downing it. 

"Is he travelling with you?"

Just the sound of her voice jolted him! But it was the question that got his heart racing! Pouring another cup, he held it, just to have something that he could focus his hands on. Raising his head high, he looked down at her. "There are many that I am travelling with... to whom do you refer? If you are still worried over Ondolemar- "

She cut him off, "You know who! Estormo, is he travelling with you?" She sat up. Her face showing her growing disgust. All she wanted now, was be away from him! This had been a mistake... all of it! 

Taking in a breath through his nose, "Yes... but I do not know where he will be stationed... "

Standing, she dropped the sheet! She would not be ashamed before him! He was nothing! She'd gotten what she wanted and now they were through! She wouldn't waste her energy on regret! It was a mistake, one that would never be revisited! She tilted her head, watching him. "That wasn't what I asked... "

Setting the cup down, he glared at her! "Focus on your tasks Sunnabe! That is all you need to worry over!" His lips curled back in loathing! "That and your new Master!"

Baring her teeth at him, her arms went down to her sides, her hands stretched into claws as she moved slowly around the bed at him! "I know well what my tasks are Wizard! Do not dare tell me!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Love You To Death  
> by: Type O Negative
> 
> Okay... I feel the need to give credit here. I'm getting a ton of help on the hetero sex scenes from mine and my partner's female friends. So again, I give tremendous thanks, as I couldn't have done it without them.


	36. This Painful End's Rejoice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have taught you all that I can! All that I know!"
> 
> The fierce look that was now upon her, caused a fire to burn within him! In his heart and deep into his very soul! Looking deep into her eyes, their noses touching. "I have kept my promise to you! Those that took from you are now within your reach! They are there waiting for you!"
> 
> Stifling a cry, her glistening eyes danced between his as she grasped the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his long, silken locks. The pain in her heart was becoming unbearable. Even with dreading this time, she had rejoiced at its coming.
> 
> Closing his eyes, his voice broke as he spoke against her soft lips. "Now, promise me that you will avenge our people! Yours... mine... me! And in doing so, you will always remember what I have given to you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Some jumps in time during this chapter. It starts out where the last one left off, but moves forward from there to right before they leave.**
> 
> Now she's already had numerous visits with Lorundiil, as noted in a chapter 31, I just hadn't gone over them. And as also noted, he was invited to each of her trials and declined each time. I just hadn't described him yet. Pretty much just description of his and Nelanare's family.

**

Standing his ground, he narrowed his eyes at her, but remained silent. Was he perhaps thinking on how to deal with her? What he should do? or not do? 

Immediately, she stopped her advance, thinking about what the consequence would be if she attacked him. He would have the right to defend himself for sure. But if he harmed her, he would be facing Nelanare, the Elders... the entire council. If she attacked him and harmed him... her mind reeled with all the possibilities of what might happen. 

Taking a step back, she relaxed her arms and raised her head, realizing that he wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth anything that would bother her Master, or that could possibly hamper her endeavor. She knew what her tasks were, she knew what was expected of her. She also knew what her personal goals were! And they did not include him!

Relaxing his stance, he turned toward the door, his hand held out to grasp the handle... and stopped. He refused to look at her, but he would say this. "If you focus too strongly on your revenge, you will lose sight of your true goals... " he stared into the wood grain of the door, "regardless of how you may now feel towards me, if you fail Nelanare or Lorundiil in _any way_ , you will forever regret it. I can assure you Sunnabe, you will never forgive yourself for failure of that magnitude."

Pushing down on the handle, he walked out without so much as a glance at her. 

Taking an out of the way footpath that he knew would lead him to the road off Nelanare's property so he wouldn't be seen, he thought about all he still had to do this evening before he could finally retire. Bathing once again was now first and foremost on his list, along with the discarding of his now ruined attire.

All of his belongings were packed and arrangements had already been made with the caretakers of his family's estate for his possible extended duty in Skyrim. Estormo had already informed him that his things had been ready the very day that Nelanare had told him his departure had been approved. He would be waiting on the dock for him at dawn.

He'd finally gotten word back from Elenwen regarding his request. Estormo would be available to him and him alone, for his personal use while they were stationed there. Though he would be housed at the Embassy, where he would also be under the watchful eye of Elenwen herself and Rulindil, he would be doing any footwork that _he_ required and would also be allowed to travel to Winterhold at his leisure. Thus giving them time to spend together, so he didn't have to worry over the troubled Mer's state constantly. 

As if he didn't have enough to deal with already! But knowing that he'd taken this on himself, he would try to look at it in a positive light. It would give him much needed breaks from the college, and them much needed breaks from him. 

Estormo had been given the most strict of orders, not only from Nelanare, but he himself, that he was not by any means to seek Sunnabe and Lorundiil out! He was not to hamper them in _any way!_ For if it was found that he did or had... he would be subject to execution and there would be absolutely nothing that he could do about it. 

He was quite hopeful that after having to serve as her training subject, that he'd grown weary of her enough that perhaps he wouldn't deem a confrontation with her as a good thing. Lorundiil himself, was quite advanced in the schools of magic. Nelanare could say whatever he wanted! But a confrontation with him alone, could prove to be just as deadly.

Now he had to make amends to his Commander. 

Going over it all in his head as he hailed the carriage. He owed him an apology. He should have never gotten involved with her on this level. Nelanare had tried to warn him over and over! Ondolemar had warned him! 

Sitting down in the small space, he pulled the door closed, literally cringing from the reality of his immense failure! He was ashamed. There was no need to visit Nelanare again, they had already said all there was to say to one another.

They'd admitted their already well known feelings, and knowing the old Mer, he already knew of his regrets... probably well before he was even aware of them himself. Also knowing how hard headed his once-pupil was, he wouldn't waste his time or energy in voicing something that he knew would not be heeded. 

A fleeting smile came to his lips as he absent-mindedly took in the passing scenery, illuminated by the moonlight. _His mentor had simply sat back and watched as he'd made his err._

Personally, he couldn't get to Skyrim fast enough.

**

The surface of the water around him breaking, forced him to crack his eyes, if just to see who it was that was joining him. In the dim light from the lanterns that surrounded the warm springs, his father slowly and quietly advanced down the steps and into the water. 

Noticing that his son's eyes, "I am sorry to have roused you my son. I felt the need for a soak... _and_ some much needed time with you bef- "

Raising his head, he stopped him before he could finish the painful sentence. "It's alright father." 

Smiling, he lay his head back against the smoothed down stone, running his hands through the swirling water. The rich minerals that flowed throughout the springs, wafting into the air around them were definitely doing their job to aid in their health. Leeching out impurities, while at the same time relaxing sore muscles, restoring energy and healing power. They could not touch his ailing heart though, nor that of his parent's.

His preparation had begun well before the time they'd contacted his uncle for help. In truth, it had begun at his birth. Since the beginning of the Great War, Altmer families that had multiple offspring, were under a great amount of pressure to have at least one of their heirs give their lives over to the Dominion and their cause! At least one or two from each family line. 

Some families were eager to serve, that being their calling in life. They were proud to have numerous Mer in their lineage that belonged to the Dominion. It was an honor. But there were families that didn't want to be a part of it, and though they couldn't voice their disdain openly, they simply wanted to live without being in fear of the shadow that constantly loomed over them.

The Altmer people, just like that of the Dunmer, did not multiply as fast as the other Mer, as they had the longer lifespans out of them all. Other than the Falmer, anyway. But they were no longer a real issue. _They,_ before being mutated into what they were now, had reportedly lived thousands of years, and thus their reproduction cycles and rate of maturity had been incredibly slow. Of course, only knowing what was found in ancient text, no one was really aware of the their reproduction now that they'd been tainted.

But _they_ as a race, had to rebuild their numbers. With the losses from the war it was imperative. But as always after such losses, their people would go through a natural birthing increase. Reproduction rates would skyrocket! Allowing for multiple births and in some cases, even twins. Nature's way of an attempt to amend the situation. To keep life going.

To him it was as if nature was trying to tell them something. Perhaps if they weren't constantly fighting one another this wouldn't have to happen at all! But there was no amount of sense that you could speak to a warmonger and get it through their thick skulls!

The Dominion complained about the ignorance and lack of civility in the Nords. And yet they themselves, with all their knowledge, wanted the same exact thing. To wipe out, or completely control the other.

Each one saw themselves as the better. That warped opinion in itself made them feel they had the right to rule over all others. 

If he had the power to do so, he would create a space for every being that simply longed for peace, and give them the option to move there. They could live away from it all, while the rest fought until not a single one remained.

As it were, if a family only had one child and heir, the Dominion would never dare to force them into signing that child over to the order, as carrying on their people's bloodline was just as important to them. But for those that had more than one child, a choice would have to be made.

The choice would be up to the family which child would be given. They had until the male or female turned an age of twenty to reach a final decision. Some would make the decision much sooner, as they would be able to tell which of their offspring was better suited to that kind of life and what they could possibly have to offer their people.

Not all that entered would become foot soldiers, they were in need of Battle Mages, Justiciars, and Wizards. Many would be needed as healers and medical officers.

Their skills would all be determined. They would go through a lengthy amount of schooling at the Training Center, which afforded each Mer the chance to learn and show their Instructors just what skills and talents they had to offer the Dominion. 

That would of course, be in addition to the education that each Mer had already received by other means from the time they were but small Elflings. To their people, education and knowledge were both extremely important, just as important as their bloodlines and community.

Many of the royal families were strongly connected to the Dominion by way of Elders and Council members, just another path in which one could follow. 

There were numerous opportunities, as they had been told over and over, and over again. His brother, the eldest of them all, had already married when he had still been tiny. He'd just recently had his first child and had been a shop owner for years. Who, when he wasn't busy assisting his wife in the handling of that, he was overseeing the farmlands their entire family ran.

His sister was now spoken for by a Mer who had just been seated on the council. And while they were pleased for her and her engagement, they were not pleased over the fact that he was in the order. He was a good Mer. But one Mer with good intentions among a hundred without, wasn't going to be able to change anything.

In fact, if he wanted to guarantee the safety of his spouse and family, he would be going along with the majority with his mouth kept firmly shut.

Just a fortnight after his birth, a courier had arrived at their door. Their family... one of royalty at that, had been gifted with a third child. Being that neither of their older children had chosen that path, one of whom was an important part of their community, running a business and providing crops. It was only fitting that this infant be brought up with the understanding that his life would be to serve his people, in aiding them in their cause.

His father knew when he'd helped his brother begin the business, that if he owned or ran a business that aided their community, they wouldn't force him in. Starting the farm had been next. For many years, well before her engagement, his sister had helped in the running of said farm... keeping her from serving as well.

The problem was, the Dominion was also well aware of what his father was doing. He could use the excuse that his family was dedicated to their people already in what they provided all they wanted. It was a delay tactic. Once he'd been born, none of that mattered. He belonged to them.

Monthly letters arrived, and after he'd celebrated his first year, they'd even gone so far as to visit them. The entire time he'd been alive they had lived in fear, knowing this day would come. Sometime between his eighteenth and twentieth year, he had to join of his own volition or they would come and take him by force.

Before Nelanare had provided them with this only means of escape, his parents had gone to every sympathizer for help, for _any_ way out of being locked into this lifetime sentence. The only way was to smuggle him out. But that in itself had become impossible. Since the war had ended, the fact that they had become more than stringent on who came and went from the Isles, was a gross understatement!

No one, absolutely no one left or arrived without the most strict approval. He was going no where. He himself had suffered greatly as well, seeing the pain that his mother and father went through constantly as they worried over him. Though they tried to put on brave faces for him, he could easily see through it. He could hear his mother's tears at night from their room, and his father's voice as he attempted to soothe her.

Numerous times he had told them that he could stand it no longer, that he would just join and do his best to be assigned something where combat or Skyrim duty wouldn't be required. But even as he spoke the words, he knew that also would probably not happen. They had lost fighters. Mages and Wizards. That's what they needed, and that's what they would be trying to replace. He would end up in Skyrim without a doubt.

The thing that scared him the most was the safety of his family. If he ran, _they_ would be the ones that would pay. Not his siblings, but his parents. Even though they were of royal blood, if the Thalmor thought they had helped him escape, they could face imprisonment and or execution. Imprisonment meant torture.

He couldn't live with himself if that happened. He would rather join and deal with it, knowing his family was safe. Their last chance had come shortly before Sunnabe had been found. A last resort. His uncle had been over for Sundas meal. It wasn't that they were close in any sense of the word. No. 

The only reason they kept in contact with him at all, was for the sake of appearances alone. They had always tried to keep their feelings regarding the Thalmor to within their circle of friends that felt the same, but that one particular day, his mother had been at her end over the whole situation and had finally spilled her guts. 

His uncle, a well-seasoned and aging Mer, had sat there silent... sipping his tea, as his sister went through her tirade. The rest of them had stared down into their plates, bracing themselves for his response. Finally, when she had smoothed the strands of hair back into her bun that had fallen and seated herself again, wiping shaking hands over her tear-streaked face, did he finally speak.

Setting down his cup, his eyes combed over everyone at the table before finally landing on her. "You know full well Nirrie, that I serve the Dominion... and yet you speak to me of treason."

They had all held their breaths. Not a sound could be heard. Opening his mouth to speak in his mother's defense, before anything could come out, Nelanare let out with a laugh! Startling them all to the point that he'd felt his father's body actually jerk in his seat. 

Clearing his throat and wiping his eyes, he'd stood, pushing the chair back away from the table. "I do understand your need to protect your last born though. I will see what I can do." Gathering his things, he had walked toward the door, leaving them all to sit in shock.

Just before their butler could open the door for him, he turned. "That is why you've told me this... is it not? For my help?"

His mother had rushed to him, actually bowing her knee to him. Her body trembling from her sobs. "Nelanare... brother... I beg you! Please! Help my son!"

Every single one of them had bolted up from the table! Kneeling down to comfort her, as his father had looked up at Nelanare, silent, but with a pleading look on his face all the same. Looking down at all of them, he could tell his uncle was fighting to contain not only his amusement, but his disgust. 

"Bowing to me will not sway my decision, Nirrie. I will help you, but it will not come without a price."

Turning back toward the door their butler had led him out, leaving them huddled up around her.

Two days later, he'd paid them another visit. They would no longer need to worry. All he would tell them at the time, was that he was working on something that would eventually get Lorundiil away from the Isles and safely away from the Dominion's clutches. Not giving them any details, just telling them to wait until he was ready. 

Cracking his eyes open, he looked at his father. His eyes were closed and his head lay back against the stone, his long, white hair floating in the water around him. He hated to bring it up, but the thought just wouldn't leave him alone. "Why do you think they've actually had her trained? Why do they even have her?" He shook his head, "I just don't understand."

Viarron looked at his son, no longer trying to hide his concern, what was the point? He only wished he had some answers for him. Any answers at all! "Why do they have _any_ of the ones they have, my son." 

Moving closer to him, he dunked under, wetting his hair, then reached over to grab their wine from the edge, handing Lorundiil his cup. 

Taking a sip, he looked at him closely, studying him as if attempting to take in every detail of his face so that he would never forget. His beautiful son. Flaxen hair, layered in such a fashion that feathers of it hung just so around his finely chiseled face, forming almost perfectly around his head and ending just above his shoulder blades. Delicately arched eyebrows, over the most brilliant and expressive green eyes. His son did not have the stern way about him that many of their people did, and his face always showed it. 

His eyes were what showed what was inside of him. A mirror. As he was the most expressive young Mer, always so compassionate. Sometimes it scared him just how much his son's face would show, betraying how he felt! He was a strong young Mer, highly skilled and intelligent, but he was also passionate and caring. He would've never made it in the order. They would destroy him. 

Looking at him now... his wet hair clinging to his face and neck, strands of it sticking out in crazy angles, his ears fully visible. He still looked so much like the little Elfling that he was, not so long ago. Still having at least several years of growing to do, and he wouldn't get to see any of it. His son, if he ever saw him again, would become a fully grown and mature Mer, in a far away and hate-filled place!

The pain swelling in his heart forced him to look away. Trying to control the quiver in his voice, he continued his thought. "They are playthings to them. And she, I think she was an experiment of your Uncle's. I don't know what they have planned or why they really have her. But promise me that you will take care! Watch her!"

Leaning his head back, he let out a deep sigh and forced a smile at his father. "I think it's almost amusing in a way. So ironic... you've tried so hard to keep me away from war and where am I going? Right into the middle of it all." Taking a sip, he set the cup down, eyeing his pruning finger pads. "Imperials... Stormcloaks... Thalmor. In a way, they're still getting exactly what they wanted."

Viarron downed his cup. "What will you do? You can't trust her with your true feelings! She's been _molded_ by _him!_ There's a reason why they're allowing you to leave with her!"

Pushing himself up onto a higher stone bench, he filled their cups once more. One hand holding his wine, the other pushing his wet hair from his face. "I know I'll have to watch what I disclose to her, but she really seems to believe that she will belong to me. Not that I feel good about that, but she has to protect me, and that means she'll do as I say." 

The whole thing about made him feel sick to his stomach! Owning another Mer! And the fact that his parents had given almost every coin that they'd had to make it so.

Viarron shook his head, "I don't trust it... any of it! They have her, train her, then just to sell her and send her away? That makes no sense! And to sell her to someone that's trying to get away from them!"

Putting a hand to his father's shoulder, "Father... "

Barely getting his his cup sat down before it fell from his shaking hands, Viarron threw them up to cover his face! "Fifty thousand gold, so I could see you dropped straight into Oblivion with a Gods-forsaken killer!" 

Lorundiil watched his father's tears as they fell off his face and into the water around them. Both hands now held onto his shoulders, gripping him! "She will fight for me!"

Lowering his hands, his face a mask of pure agony, red rimmed eyes sought him out. "I've _seen_ her fight Lorundiil! Nelanare allowed me to see her last match! Those poor boys... she... if their plan is to have her turn against you, I don- "

"You will not lose me! You will see me again! I can promise you this!" Handing his cup to him, he now held his own and lowered his voice. "I have no plans to remain in Skyrim. There is nothing for me there. I will wait until I know her true goals and then I will go from there. But I promise you that one day we will be reunited. I just worry over you and Mother. I know that amount- "

Viarron's tears flowed all the harder, his heart aching so at hearing his son's words. "How can you worry over coin? Over us!" 

Swallowing, he raised his cup, dunking under once again just to rid himself of the seemingly endless fluid that had leaked from his wretched eyes! Coming back up he ran a hand over his hair, wringing some of the water from it while trying to get himself better under control. 

"We will be fine. Your brother and Terie are still here with us. The money from the business and the farm will recoup what we've given in the end. I just beg you to focus on what she is doing and what is happening around you there. It is such a hostile and savage land."

"Come father." Stepping up out of the water, Lorundiil grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Picking up the bottle of wine and their cups, he placed it onto the tray and waited for father. He longed to change the subject, but he understood his father's need to free himself of what he had held onto, just to have the slightest bit of comfort. Any knowledge at all that he would be safe. He'd wanted to tell them that he would send letters, but even _that_ would be subject to inspection. There was no way he could even contact them. Not even to tell them that he was alright... that he was still alive. 

The overwhelming sadness he felt constantly threatened to consume him. But knowing that it paled in comparison to what his parents felt, was what kept him from showing it. He had to be strong for them! If they saw that he was resolute in what lay before him, that he was confidant, then they would be apt to worry less. 

He'd spent his entire youth being prepared for this moment. That fact alone, made them all feel that they'd been cheated out of the life they could've had together. But it had been necessary. Learning all he could from tutors and his parents. Tamriel's history, languages, alchemy, and all the schools of magic. He was even well versed in archery. He wouldn't be relying on physical weapons though. At the age of only twenty, he was nearing an expert's level in many of the schools, highly adept in them all. 

They only had a few days before they departed now. The last several weeks had been spent readying his supplies and gear. Extra robes, boots, potions and alchemy ingredients. Maps and dried goods. His water skin sat at the ready, waiting to be filled. His duffle and alchemy pouch, right down to the robes he would wear to the docks, were laid out in his room. 

What he wanted now, was to simply enjoy his family before he left them. Take in as much of them as possible. It wouldn't be enough.

**

In the darkness, a soft ocean breeze flowed in through the windows. He stroked her hair, smoothing away the sweat dampened strands that stuck to her forehead. He whispered to her... his sweet breath tickling her lips and her nose. "I've never known a love of the like that I now feel for you, Sunnabe."

Watching as a silent tear made it's way down and across the bridge of her little nose... his own were now coming. 

Never in his life had he declared his feelings for another being. He would do it just this once... just to her. "I will not live long enough to feel this way for anyone ever again. Sunnabe, you have become so, so much to me... my words cannot express... " Softly, he shook his head, pulling his arm down and around her, pulling her closer into his body.

Her lips pushed out into a pout. She strained to keep eye contact, when he knew that her instinct was to bury her head into his chest. Au-riel, but he would miss her so! "I have taught you all that I can! All that I know!" 

The fierce look that was now upon her, caused a fire to burn within him! In his heart and deep into his very soul! Looking deep into her eyes, their noses touching. "I have kept my promise to you! Those that took from you are now within your reach! They are there waiting for you!"

Stifling a cry, her glistening eyes danced between his as she grasped the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his long, silken locks. The pain in her heart was becoming unbearable. Even with dreading this time, she had rejoiced at its coming.

Closing his eyes, his voice broke as he spoke softly against her lips. "Now, promise me that you will avenge our people! Yours... mine... me! And in doing so, you will always remember what I have given to you..."

**

They had spent the night in each other's arms. There was no sex... only tears. _'Do not mourn leaving me Sunnabe. Rejoice in the new life that I have given you!'_

His words rang through her mind as they sipped on tea and nibbled on biscuits. Standing up from the small table that sat nice and cozy in the sunlit nook of his kitchen, he let out a long breath, fishing for something in the pocket of his robes. 

Curiously, she watched him. She had barely been able to take her eyes off from him over the last few weeks, almost to the point that it caused him distraction. Her eyes literally followed him everywhere.

He understood though. The last few weeks they'd had together had been almost agonizing, waiting for the inevitable. He was loath to admit that even with the pain he was feeling, it would be a relief to simply have it over. Just so they could both move on and heal. 

Finding what he wanted, his hand closed around the folded up handkerchief nestled in his pocket, lifting it out. Standing in front of her, he took her hand and placed the handkerchief inside. "This is for you."

Looking down at it, her dark brows began to knit up. Blinking rapidly for a moment just to expel the unwanted liquid. There had been enough of that the night before, no reason to do it now when they'd both put on such brave faces for one another.

Feeling the bulge within the cloth, she carefully opened it up. As soon as it was revealed, she gasped as a few errant tears found their way down her face anyway. Holding up the gold chain, she let the amulet piece dangle just so she could see it better. 

A starburst, older than they knew. Worn from the ages, the once fine edge had been broken off one of the points. But it was still very beautiful. "It's broken... I'm sorry." 

He swallowed, taking the back of his hand to wipe his own tears as he reached down and took it from her. Walking around the back of her chair, he undid the clasp and lowered down it over her face. She felt of it as he made sure the clasp was tightly closed. "It belonged to my great grandfather. He found it while on expedition inside of a Dwemer ruin when he, himself, was but a young Mer." 

His eyes lowered to the hanky she held. "That was made for me by my mother. It has my initials on it. I've never been without it."

Jumping to her feet, she embraced him so hard that it had nearly knocked him over, tucking her head into his chest! 

Holding onto her, he whispered. "These are so you will remember me... the real me Sunnabe. The Mer that loves you."

She had walked through his home, saying goodbye to everything that was dear to her in her mind. Running her hand over his old alchemy table. She had spent several hours at that table with him yesterday, preparing potions and gathering ingredients for her pouch. He'd allowed her to gather any food she would need, knowing she was the last one he would ever have to lecture on the merits of preparation. Dried fruits and meat. And thinking of her new Master, she had secured enough for him as well.

Dressed in her lightest of leathers, all her gear and attire packed snugly in the duffle that she'd made by hand while there. Knives and Bosmer blades, that had been skillfully made by his own Bosmer smithy. And her bow. Made from bone. _She_ had made this, and upon the limbs, she had carved her history. Her story in Ayleid. Just like the one her Ata had made for her, which she planned to find. 

Nelanare called out to her, it was time to leave. She was traveling to Lorundiil's family home and from there, the docks. Carrying all that she would own on her back, she slowed and turned, looking at the area in which she'd spent most of her first days there. The spot where her cage had sat. The circle in the stone wall where the chain that'd held her had once been bolted in. The line on the floor. Still there.

Where they were going, there was no line. She would find him. Him _and_ the other. Her parents would be avenged! Her Wolf would be avenged! What she was owed, would soon be paid.

Holding her head high, she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.

**

Having no desire to be witness to the display of emotion he knew he would see if he accompanied her, he chose to stay behind. Handing her their travel documents which bore the Dominion's, as well as his own personal seal, he gave her one final kiss and stood back, watching as she boarded the carriage and rode away into the distance.

No sooner than they pulled away, did the tears she had held at bay all morning start flowing. Pushing her duffle and bow aside, her arms encircled around her, she bent over and rocked back and forth, sobbing. 

Not since she had lost her parents, had she felt such pain as this. She felt as though her heart were being ripped out. When she had lost her wolf, the pain had been different. Even though she had begun to love him and long for him and what he represented, the feelings she felt were different. And when she lost him, it wasn't the crippling pain and loss that she had felt from her parent's deaths. It was anger... savage anger. It was a feeling of the most horrible betrayal! 

And how he had died! how they had done it! Leaving him buried in that pit, so no one would find him! She'd often wondered over that. Wondered if they had ever found him? If his bones were still there? Just thinking about it was helping her to take control of her heart once more. 

It was at least a thirty minute ride to Lorundiil's family home, she would take that time to get her feelings out of her system, and would hopefully be dry-eyed when they arrived. From the numerous visits with him after she'd become more civilized, he seemed to be a very emotionally intense young Mer, as she could always see and feel what he was feeling. He never made any attempt to manage it or hide it. To act rigid or aloof, like most of the other Altmer people that she'd encountered while there. 

Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem for them while they were in Skyrim. She would have to get a feel for him. They didn't really know each other and it was quite possible that he may change once they were out of his home territory. Wiping her face, she opened the handkerchief he had given her and stared at it. Folding it back up carefully, she felt along the stitching at the edges... his initials. Closing her eyes she tucked it away, fighting the new flood of tears that was threatening to break free.

Forcefully pushing thoughts of their journey into her mind, a smile came to her face. She was finally going home.

**

The carriage pulled into the gates and rolled up to the front entrance. After a few moments the dust finally settled. His mother watched as his escort and bodyguard climbed down. This was the first time she'd ever seen Sunnabe in person. From the first they'd been told about her, only Lorundiil and Viarron had seen her. 

A tiny Bosmer female. Hair, long in the extreme, hanging in multiple braids that ran down the length of her scalp. Dressed in brown and green leathers. Forearms bare and knee high boots. The closer she got, the better she could see the teal colored ritual markings that adorned her face. She was beautiful, and fierce.

One wouldn't have to see her fight to know that, she carried herself like a warrior. All that mattered to _her_ was that the little Mer was on her son's side.

Their butler opened the door and led her inside. As soon as they were within sight, she put her hand to her heart and bent in a slight bow, showing her respect. This was her Master's family, his home, and she would never dishonor him or show disrespect to his family or anything that was his. 

Nirrie put up her hand to them and stepped forward, eyeing her. This was the last time she would get to see her son, she would speak now. She paused, seeing the golden symbol that hung around Sunnabe's neck, a mix of emotion coursed through her! 

She wouldn't bring up the evident relationship that this Mer had with her brother, but for him to have given that to her, it was way more than just mentor and student! That amulet had been handed down through the family from their great grandfather! It was priceless. Now all she could do was question her son's safety even more. She knew where Nelanare's allegiance lay and if he actually loved this Mer, then where was her's?

Her hands were clutched tightly together at her waist, wringing each other nervously as she stepped closer. She could tell the young Mer had been weeping, as her face and neck were blotched red. Even as dark as her skin was, it was completely visible. 

Her lovely eyes were red-rimmed and weary, still showing the telltale signs that she could perhaps weep yet again. Whatever side she was on, she was going through her own pain as well. Perhaps that was a good thing. At least she knew that she could feel.

Fighting to smile even a little, Nirrie stopped before her. Lorundiil moved up to her side, watching the changes on Sunnabe's face as she tried to assess what his mother was doing.

She stood stock still, watching her. She could tell that she was in emotional agony. The pain she was feeling was etched hard on her aging face. Aging, but no less beautiful, and she ached for her son.

Trying her best to remain still, not only this Altmer female that stood before her, but the emotion that she was seeing and feeling on _all_ of them, was making her extremely uncomfortable. This was _his_ family. _Their_ time. She didn't belong here!

Nirrie finally broke the silence. "I am Nirrie... Lorundiil's mother."

Taking one more step, she reached a hand up slowly and brushed a small lock of hair away from Sunnabe's eyes that had loosened from one of her braids. Watching as absolute shock took hold of the smaller Mer's features, she lowered her hand. 

Tilting her head as Sunnabe fought to contain her confusion. "Lorundiil tells me that you lost your parents when you were quite small."

Lorundiil stared at Sunnabe, taking in her face as her mouth dropped slightly. His mother continued... he knew this would happen. "I can see that you believe in Au-riel... as do I."

Sunnabe's hand made it's way up to the amulet, holding it as she spoke. Watching as the tears overflowed from his mother's green eyes, running freely down to drip onto the front of her dress.

"Before this, I could have never imagined being parted from my child... or my child being parted from me, and having to face what lay ahead alone."

Putting his arm around her, he knew his face shone of what he felt, he could not hide it. His father stood behind them, listening. "I cannot imagine what you had to go through to survive without them Sunnabe. But I believe that they are with him. I believe that when we go to him, we are made like him. The way all Mer were supposed to be, pure of magic and starlight. The energy that made all."

Sunnabe's eyes glistened with fresh tears as Nirrie looked to her son. "I believe that they have seen you survive. Au-riel would have bestowed that sight to them, so they could see you live on." 

Taking in a deep, shaking breath, Nirrie's hand came up to his face, gently touching him. The anguish in her expression so great, "This is my son... " her eyes now landing back on her. "He is being taken from me... and he will never see me again. He will never see any of us or his homeland again."

Sunnabe's mouth fell, her bottom lip trembled. Tears streaked down her dark skin as her watering eyes flitted between them all, hearing these heart wrenching words. _"You_ can help keep him alive. Only _you_ can give us hope. So that we can go to see Au-riel when our time comes, knowing that he too, lived on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heavily into Au-riel, if you haven't noticed by now. So you will find his amulet somewhere in each of my Skyrim fics.


	37. Coming Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was confused. Nelanare had told _her_ that Lorundiil, being of royal bloodline and relation to himself, was traveling to Skyrim as an envoy to their mission. Possibly assisting the Imperials in bridging the gap between their peoples, aiding them in their cause. And thus, aiding her in what she was to do as well.
> 
> She did not understand at all, why his family would be so grief stricken over things that they'd prepared him for? Why would his mother never see him again? Did they not trust in his abilities? Or her's?

Another mission  
The powers have called me away  
Another time  
To carry the colors again  
My motivation  
An oath I've sworn to defend  
To win the honor  
Of coming back home again

**

The last female that had ever touched her like that, had been her mother. Not even the servants Nelanare had touched her in that manner. Their's had been a helper's touch, not a mother's.

She had absolutely no idea how to respond to the contact. Standing there, her hand locked around the amulet he'd given her, tears streaming down her face as she looked between her Master and his mother. And now his father, as he joined them.

Going over the wave of emotion that gripped her, she knew that it wasn't the grief of leaving Nelanare that she was feeling now. It was seeing this mother... _his_ mother, grieve for him. It was feeling possibly just a fraction of what her own had felt, when her Ata had shoved her up that tree and they'd turned to face their attackers. Knowing she may never lay eyes on her again.

What was the right reaction? What was the right thing for her to do? What she wanted to do was give Lorundiil's mother some kind of peace of mind. Any kind. But with what she was feeling, she was afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak she wouldn't be able to get the words out. She would just cry.

Swallowing hard, Sunnabe tore her eyes from the pained Mer before her and briefly looked down at her feet, taking in a quiet breath. She couldn't break down in front of these Mer! She needed to show Lorundiil that she was strong, but also where her allegiance lay. It lay with him, and that meant his family as well.

Knowing she couldn't say what she needed to without looking them in the eye, for that would make them question her sincerity. She raised her head. Up until now, what had lay first and foremost in her mind had been her revenge. Even what Nelanare had prepared her for had taken second place to it.

Now all she could think about was this, and how it reminded her of her own mother and how badly she missed her. How horribly she'd been wronged! Her and her Ata both!

Her eyes swimming with fresh tears, she looked up into the golden face that needed comfort so badly and took a small step forward...

Nirrie swallowed as the small Mer unexpectedly came closer, her son's larger hand enclosing around her's as the Bosmer's head tilted up to look her directly in the eyes. Warm amber with just a hint of brown, and filled with such sadness, there was no way she could mean her any harm.

Lorundiil stood close, his hand over his mother's, his father's arms around them both, waiting for her to speak.

Her soft voice broke, wavering as she forced out the painful words. "I swear... on my Mother's life... my Ata's... " more tears fell, her throat tightening up in anguish, "and all they suffered so I could live!... " her chin and lips trembled, "that I will protect your Son... with my own!"

Nirrie sobbed out, raising her free hand to cover her mouth, Lorundiil held her tighter, feeling his father's own tears hit his shoulder. Sunnabe lowered her head, quickly bowing to one knee, she could no longer look upon her, nor any of them. Taking a deep breath, she fought to control her words. "With respect, I will wait outside to give you the time you require with one another."

Not sparing even a glance at any of them, she rose and immediately turned to the door, their butler having to rush to open it in time, they watched her as she walked out to the carriage and waited for him to join her.

Nirrie turned to him, wrapping her arms around him, clutching him to her fiercely! His father now joined by his siblings, they huddled together, his mother whispering to him through her tears. "I have hope now... I have hope."

**

She couldn't get out fast enough! As soon as the door opened and she could see the sky, feel the open space and breathe the open air, she felt better. It didn't matter how great in size the entry room to their estate was, being closed in a place... any place, coupled with the crushing weight of all the emotion that was emanating off from all of them, she felt she would suffocate under it all.

What made it worse was the fact that it was being pointed at her. It all had to do with him leaving. It was killing his mother. His father had even wept. Closing her eyes, she leaned her hand against the carriage. She couldn't bear it for another second, feeling what they were feeling. What _he_ was feeling. It was too much.

She was also confused. Nelanare had told her that Lorundiil, being of royal bloodline and relation to himself, was traveling to Skyrim as an envoy to their mission. Possibly assisting the Imperials in bridging the gap between their peoples, aiding them in their cause. And thus, aiding her in what she was to do as well.

Not only was he to study as much as possible about the land and her savage inhabitants, but he was to explore their ancient ancestor's ruins, learning and documenting anything he could about them so that it may be recorded.

 _She,_ because he was of nobility and of such importance to their cause, was to aid him in every way possible and keep him safe, so that one day he may return home when his duties to them were complete. _That_ was her responsibility! She did not understand at all, why his family would be so grief stricken over things that they'd prepared him for? Why would his mother never see him again? Did they not trust in his abilities? Or her's?

Licking her lips, she could hear the crunch of stone under his boots as he approached from behind her. She could hear his family behind him as they watched him depart from them, his father still attempting to quietly console his mother.

**

Walking to where she stood waiting for him, the driver opened the door, holding out his hand motioning for them to climb in. Going against his upbringing, she waited for him to climb in first. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. 

Getting settled, his sweating palms clung to the travel documents held within. He faced forward and closed his eyes, feeling her presence on one side of him and his grieving family's to the other. For right now, he would look at neither.

If he looked back at them, he would spill the tears he'd locked tightly away. He needed to be strong. He needed to appear as her Master would and weeping like a child was not going to achieve that at all.

He also knew she felt the urge to speak to him and yet was either afraid to do so, or was fighting her own internal battle and had not yet chosen what she would say. He wasn't ready to speak to her. In fact, he may not be ready until they were safely on their vessel and the mooring lines were released, freeing them into the Topal Bay.

The fact was, that he was fighting his own internal battle, and he wouldn't be able to speak without breaking down. The fact was, that he still _did_ feel like a child in some ways. In many ways, if he was at all honest with himself. 

He wasn't ready for what lay ahead. Even with everything that he'd trained for and learned, he still wasn't ready. He was terrified. He couldn't show his family that, and if he turned his head to them as they rode away, they would see every ounce of it written all over his face. 

He couldn't do that to them. He wouldn't.

Opening his eyes as the carriage lurched forward, he blew out a silent breath and pushed the thoughts of what his parents were going through out of his head. He needed to focus! He needed to keep his sights on what lay ahead! This so called mission!

Straightening the crumpled documents over the top of his legs, he glanced over the Dominion seal, along with his Uncle's and carefully opened them. Reading through them once again, so that he was well versed in what he was supposedly to be doing in Skyrim, that was granting them this journey.

Envoy. 

An Envoy to the Dominion... to the Empire. He'd about been sick when Nelanare's messenger had arrived with the papers a few days ago. It was a farce! All of it!

He was no Envoy! He knew nothing of importance that could aid them in their endeavor! Which made them all that much more suspicious as to what _she_ was really doing with him and why they'd released her. What she'd really been trained for?

They knew of some of his Uncle's projects and his value. His importance to the Dominion. Anything he did, was for the sole purpose of gaining them more power.

His father also knew that all the coin they'd handed over was nothing in comparison to what he'd received from the ones he served. When he stood in their home, looking down at his mother, he'd stated that he would help them, but that it wouldn't come cheap. It would come at a price.

The price wasn't the coin. It was something else. Something none of them would know until a later time. And it would be much heavier than the fifty thousand, he was sure of it.

Looking over at the documents she held in her lap, he just had to know. "Sunnabe... let me see your papers please."

She started! evidently so lost in thought that the sound of his voice had shaken her. Immediately handing him the envelopes, she watched as he carefully opened both sets on his lap, comparing them to one another. After just a moment he let out an exasperated breath and folded them up. Handing her's back as if disappointed, he silently looked out the window as they rode.

Her documents matched his. What did he actually think they would say? Did he really think that they would have put her true purpose down on parchment? Staring out at the passing landscape, he could see his own reflection in the glass. He could see her's as well. She was watching him. Questioning his actions. Wondering over what was going on in his mind.

Whatever her true goal was, it wasn't for the betterment of the Nords... and it _definitely_ wasn't going to help relations between their two peoples.

Whatever it was, the only ones it would be helping would be the Dominion. And that wasn't a good thing for his family or anyone else that didn't want to be under their tyranny.

Catching sight of the shoreline again, the Port was within view. No time now to discuss it, he would wait.

********

 Both of them stood silently at the railing, watching the shoreline as it shrank away in the distance. Both of them saying any goodbyes they had to say internally. He could tell by looking at her in his peripheral that she was hurting. 

She tried hard to keep her expression neutral, but he could tell that there was definitely pain in her heart. Not only was her hand constantly fondling the amulet his Uncle had given her, but the tears she showed at his family home revealed she was going through her own struggle. 

What _he_ struggled with was knowing it was over Nelanare! It was enough to turn his stomach! And not that he had any intention of trying to dig open old wounds, but what she had told his mother struck a chord with him. 

He had questions, and they needed to be answered!

Shoving the nagging thoughts away, he attempted to simply enjoy the view and think of the journey that lay ahead. The sky was almost completely clear, only a trace amount of the whitest clouds were scattered about. The sun was bright and if the weather lasted and they stayed at full sail, they would be due to arrive in the Imperial City Ports in just several days time. 

Horses were to be prepared and awaiting them. One mount for each of them, plus one that would act as a pack mule, holding extra supplies that they would be given upon their arrival. It would take another week by horseback at the very least just to get into Skyrim, _if_ there were no problems.

And from the route he'd mapped out in advance, the best way would be to head straight toward Falkreath Hold. At first when he'd sat down with his father to go over this, he'd planned to head toward Riften as it was closer to where they would be docking. But the look on his father's face alone had been enough to tell him of his error. It was then that he'd explained to him what he knew of the place. 

Amongst all the other problems the city had, his father had been told that the Jarl there was under allegiance to Ulfric. It was also much too close to Eastmarch. No, they would be heading toward Falkreath. And after that many days travel, hopefully be able to get a night's stay at the Inn there before moving on to Whiterun.

Now that they were underway, he motioned to her to follow him below decks. They would have less ears in the small room they were sharing than up here on deck and he had to speak to her. He had to know what he was dealing with.

Opening the small door for her, he held up an arm, giving her the okay to precede him into the room. Coming in directly behind her, he closed the door and slid the lock into place.

It was small, but cozy. Two bunks sat opposite each other, with a very small nightstand between them. Atop that was a single candle and two cups. A crate holding wine sat on the floor behind one of the bunks. All their belongings had been set on the beds and on the floor.

"Please Sunnabe, sit. I wish to speak with you."

Though she sat without question, he could see the look in her eyes. Wondering if she'd displeased him in some manner perhaps? 

She sat and watched him as he remained standing, opening a bottle to pour them both some wine. Daring to speak, her voice was kept low. "I should be the one serving you, my Lord"

Lorundiil stopped for a moment, thinking over what she'd said. "I want you to address me by my given name Sunnabe."

Finishing, he turned and handed her a cup and sat down on the bed he'd chosen. His eyes locked onto hers. He could tell she was a bit shocked by what he'd said, but still she didn't argue or question his request. 

That may change very soon with what he intended to ask her, but he believed that in the position she was in, she would give him the answers he desired.

Taking a sip of his wine, he looked down into the cup, resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs. "I have some questions to ask you, as well as some requests that I intend to make of you. We didn't get a lot of time together prior to departing, so I feel we should take this time while we travel and do just that."

She lifted her cup, taking a small sip, keeping her eyes on his.

"I know you are well versed in hiding how you feel. I don't know if that stemmed from what you endured while growing up in the wilds or your time with my Uncle. But while you are with me, unless we are in battle or in a position where it would hamper our safety, I would like you to tell me what you are feeling. Be open with me."

He took another sip, swishing it around in his mouth for a split second before swallowing. He felt like he was talking to a child that had done wrong, she was so quiet. "If you withhold your true feelings from me, I will feel that you have reason to hide something from me. I won't like it, and I want us to have complete trust in one another."

Finally she nodded, her almond shaped eyes locked with his.

Unsure of whether he would regret it, he would give her the right to ask questions of him first. After all, they needed to have trust in one another, right? And there was no way he could take without giving. "Before I begin, are there any questions you have of me? Please, I implore you to speak freely."

*******

Setting her cup down, she scooted her bottom back to the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching him. Assessing him.

Sitting there in his deep charcoal grey robes, the burgundy tunic beneath bringing out the color in his full lips, she tilted her head as her eyes combed over him, taking in every single inch that was visible. 

He was young in the extreme, compared to the older and more physically mature Altmer she had seen more of. And from what she'd learned from Nelanare while studying, he wouldn't even be done growing for another four or five years. 

Already standing at an impressive six foot four, he could gain another five to six inches of height still. It wasn't uncommon for their males to gain a height of over seven foot. And they were graceful, even with that. 

Most Nords and Orcs she had encountered that had extreme size, tended to move in a lumbering way. They were strong, but could be out maneuverd easily. This would not be so with him.

Every single move he made seemed fluid and catlike, even when he was nervous and would fidget. She fought the smile that tugged at her lips. He was trying to be so serious, and yet still thinking of her. He was caring.

He'd allowed her in before him. Poured her wine first, handing her cup to her. He wanted them to trust each other, constantly saying please. 

Her eyes roamed over his face, watching his lips as he enunciated each word perfectly over his brilliant white teeth. She could see Nelanare in him. His wide set, well defined jaw. The indent of his cheek before reaching extremely high cheekbones. The arch in his flaxen brows. The shape of his eyes, just a touch more slanted than his father's. The emerald shade in those eyes, just a touch darker than his mother's. The shade of his skin, a creamy golden color and not even the slightest hint of a whisker. 

He knew he was attractive, but wasn't blatant with his knowledge. He didn't care to display it. Instead, he tried to hide it, as if being the center of anyone's attention would be painful or obtrusive.

Hence the reason he had his hair cut in the fashion it was. He was trying to take any attention away from his face, and yet all the style did was draw the onlooker's eyes right to it, achieving the exact opposite of his intent.

His voice. His voice was even like Nelanare's. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before. He seemed to be an almost perfect rendition of the Mer she loved, just in his younger years. 

Just the thought of that... the revelation, made her eyes travel downward, over the planes of his chest, all covered up under that robe. His voice faded out as she wondered what he would look like without it. 

Looking now at his long, lean legs. They would be traveling together. Living together. She wondered how long it would take him to grow lonely for a female's touch.

Her eyes centered on the apex of his thighs, wondering how he was sized.

"Sunnabe?"

His voice coming back in the forefront startled her! Her eyes jumped from where they were, color flooding her face as he spoke again.

"I said, are there any questions you have of me? Are you alright?"

She swallowed nervously, "Yes. I am fine. Please forgive me, today... today has been extremely taxing." She nodded, more to herself than to him, as if she were admitting something, then added. "Emotionally, for me."

He drained his cup, setting it down. "Yes. It has definitely been that for us both."

Focusing back on her, "I promise that I won't try to discuss everything today then, as we both should try to rest. We do have plenty of time, but I thought it best to break the ice, so to speak. Do you understand what I mean?"

She nodded, her eyes shifting to the small porthole window that was nestled by the ceiling of their cabin, then back to his. "I... I was wondering about what your Mother said to me." She swallowed, the grasp around her knees tightening. "Why would she never see you again? How are you being taken from them? Do they not trust me to keep you safe?"

Lorundiil stayed silent for a moment, processing what she had said. What she'd just said. Now he knew. She knew nothing of the truth where he and his family were concerned. Nelanare had kept it from her. Taking his mind a moment to wrap around it all, he couldn't believe it! _She really believed what their parchments said! She really believed that's what they were going there for!_

Now he didn't really know what to do once they arrived in Whiterun. How would he pull it off, without worrying over her possibly thinking him a traitor and turning against him? He definitely couldn't tell her the truth now.

He wouldn't really lie, as she may detect that. He simply would withhold some of the truth. "She is afraid for me." He sat forward, thinking about his mother now and what she must be feeling for him. "Even though this is for our people, it wasn't exactly the place they would have chosen for me to go. There are many dangers there that our people have never had to face, or encounter. Do you see?"

She nodded. He seemed sincere. "I think I do. You are her last son... her baby. She fears she will never see you again."

Brilliant emerald green eyes met hers. He smiled, color rising up in his cheeks from her statement of his place in the family, making him seem even younger than before. Now she feared more for them. How she would keep him safe? 

Of course she'd never seen him fight, she couldn't discount his abilities simply due to age. He was after all, wearing a Master's robes. But in her memories of the place they were returning to, one had to be a fighter simply in order to live another day. Even their children. 

After all, she'd made it. He may have been trained in many things, but he was still raised in a safe place, surrounded by love. There was a difference.

He refilled his cup, leaning back against the wall to relax. "Now it's my turn."

She actually grinned at him, leaned over and picked up her own cup again. Just seeing it on her face made him want to smile. He wanted to get along with her, become close with her. They would have to know each other very well in order to help each other stay alive. 

Of course, after seeing the way she had looked him over while he'd been talking with her earlier, he hoped she didn't have designs that he couldn't meet. He had no intention of their relationship going in that direction. He'd never been with anyone and intimacy was the farthest thing from his mind right now.

Turning his thoughts back to what he needed to know, the smile that had just started to touch his lips left him, causing her's to fade as well. He looked downward at his hands... at the cup. "I do not wish to make you revisit something painful... but what you said to my mother has stayed with me, and I find that I must know the answer."

His eyes met her's. "You mentioned that your parents had suffered so you could live. Nelanare never told us much about you. What happened to them Sunnabe?"

Downing her wine and shocking him in the process. Her thumb ran across her bottom lip, grazing the teal tattoo that spanned the width of it to catch an errant drop. "They were killed... when I was very small."

She had no intention of reliving the details with him, nor anyone else for that matter. She had recalled it all. Every last horrible detail for Nelanare and would never do it again. She would, however, give him just enough information to appease him, then perhaps he would shift his attention elsewhere. "Enemies came into our camp. My Ata pushed me into a tree to hide me. They fought, but my parents did not survive it."

Unable to hide the look of sympathy that he knew was all over his face, his only hope was that she not be offended by it. "I am truly sorry... do you know who killed them? Did they ever meet justice?"

The look that overtook her expression told him more than she probably would have wanted him to know. It told him that she definitely knew who did it. Or at least saw who it was. _That_ he was sure of. Pure vengeance reigned supreme on the little Bosmer's face as she thought of what she would say to him.

She didn't want to lie to him... she didn't. "I saw them... well, one of them... yes."

She swallowed, unable to look him in the eye as she stared down into her cup. _She couldn't tell him! She just couldn't! He would stop her! He would try to keep her from completing the most important thing in her life if she told him._

"Please forgive me... I am very tired and- "

"I am as well. Please forgive me for bringing it up." 

Much to her relief he seemed to give up easily, again surprising her with his politeness to her regardless of position. Setting her cup down, she laid down onto her side and faced the wall, keeping her boots on just in case.

She listened to him get up, then stretch. He was situating their gear. She didn't want to lie to him, she really did not. But there was no way that he could know that two Thalmor were going to meet their end at her hands.

Yes, her primary goal was to protect him. Even if that meant lying to him to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Indestructible  
> by: Disturbed
> 
> Now just to make sure that no one is confused... Sunnabe doesn't know the feelings that Lorundiil and his family harbor for the Dominion. She has been made to believe everything that Nelanare taught her is the truth. But that didn't include Nelanare's hatred for his own sister and her family, which includes his nephew, the one she was being given to (sold to). That was all kept from her. Ahem... also, try to remember that this is going to head in the pro-Stormcloak direction.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your patience.


	38. One Thousand Benefits of Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baenir nodded at him and moved closer to whisper. "Those papers you have there, guarantee you and your party safe passage into Skyrim... you realize this, yes?"
> 
> Lorundiil just nodded to him, the meaning still escaping him.
> 
> Baenir, noticing the look on his face, began walking once more. They were almost at the junction where the Red Ring Road met the Silver, the sun was getting low in the sky. If they were going to do this, they had to hurry!

All great things are simple,  
many can be expressed in a single word:

Freedom

Justice

Honor

Duty

Mercy

Hope

**********

Situating their gear, he thought over what she had said and the look that had been on her face as she'd said it. All the little unnecesary movements she'd made. They were all the things that she would have looked for had _he_ been the one speaking.

His father was right. She was well versed in killing, in assessing her prey and knowing just how and when to strike. But she wasn't trying to kill _him._ She was opening up to him. Which was exactly what he wanted. He just wished that she hadn't withheld what he'd wanted to know.

The fact that she tried to cover something up told him there was much more to the story than what she was telling. He wasn't sure if that played any sort of role in their mission, but the fact that she lied to him would stay with him.

Of course he hadn't told her everything either. But what he'd withheld could possibly be saving his life. Him not knowing if her parent's killers ever met the business end of a blade or not meant nothing where their safety was concerned.

*********

Getting off the ship was the worst mistake they could have ever made.

Only two days sail had given them more cramped in time than what she could stand. After laying in the small cabin they were to share for just several hours, she had gone up on deck and had only come back down to eat and use the chamber pot. Being up on deck was better than being trapped down below, but not by much.

He joined her during the daytime hours, talking with the sailors, finding out as much as they could about the area they were heading. At night, she slept on the roof of the captain's quarters. The highest point they would allow her on that wasn't part of the shrouds. To her dismay, she was forbidden to climb anything else.

The last day on the water.

Having done what trading the vessel had to do with the Bravil port, they finally set off toward Lake Rumare. Lorundiil leaned against the deck's railing, looking up at her atop the cabin's roof. She stared glumly out at the water with an extremely sour expression twisting at her mouth.

"She yearns for the trees my friend."

An incredibly strong lilt made the Bosmer's words seem almost foreign to his ears. Even though they spoke the same language, he could tell the sailor was directly from Valenwood, probably not too long ago either.

A Bosmer out of their native land long enough would lose some of the sound their distinct dialect tended to give them, each area of Valenwood being just a touch different in their speech. It was no different than anywhere else in Tamriel.

Leaning against the handle of his mop, the smaller Mer stopped his work for a moment to admire her along with him. "I thought being out of the cabin would've given her the space she needed, but it seems to have almost made it worse."

"Aye. It is the fact that she can see the distant shore, but not put her hands and feet to it. The water is no place for a tree dweller."

Lorundiil looked down at him, now really taking the time to see who he was speaking with. He wasn't a particularly aged Bosmer, but grizzled. Just surmising from what he could see, twas simply from a harsh life? Perhaps some wrong decisions as well?

Jagged scars cut through the green ritual tattoos on his face. A worn leather patch covered one eye, tied through auburn dreadlocks that hung down to mid-back, held together precariously at his neck by a tattered piece of cloth. Various earrings were looped through each of his long pointed ears. Small bits were missing out of his flesh here and there, where possibly from some of them had been ripped free during fights.

"Doesn't it bother you to sail then?" Lorundiil raised an arched brow at him, smiling.

A carefree grin spread wide on the Mer's weathered face, showing the bright white points of his sharp canines. Lorundiil couldn't look upon him without matching it, feeling almost a kinship with his Bosmeri cousin. That smile showed the small Mer's heart, and even with all his scars, took the added years away, giving him a younger and almost mischievous aspect. Enough so that he fought chuckling for a moment.

"No. I'm right where I need to be." Pointing up at his eye patch, "This did away with my use of a bow, and these... " he gestured with one hand at the long jagged grooves that ran through the skin on his face, "what gave me these almost did away with my life."

Taking the mop to the deck again, he spoke while he worked. Lorundiil watched him, listening closely. "Now what matters to me is knowing what each day will bring. I have steady work, a bed and coin." Looking out at the water for just a moment, he smiled again. "I have the sky above me. I get to see many places and meet many different people. This is a rich life I have my friend. No, I do not miss the trees. But her... "

The Bosmer stopped for a moment, staring him right in the eye. "That Elf there... she will never be happy without them."

For just a moment they both looked at her again. Sitting up there, arms folded atop her knees, bow strapped to her back. It was like looking at a bird in a cage, just waiting for it's cell door to open. Waiting for that glimpse of the open air that it knew lay just beyond.

The Bosmer's expression changed to one of sadness right before he looked away. His voice was thoughtful, almost forlorn, "She is wild. It is the spirit of our people within her. Of what we were meant to be and cannot be any longer. What even the most civilized of us all still yearn for. Perhaps one day she will see her homeland again. Only then, will she know true peace."

**

Going down below decks, they grabbed their gear as the ports were now within sight. It would only be a matter of time and they would be docking. It would take a few hours to get the horses and their extra supplies, and he wanted to go over the maps one more time.

Baenir watched them as they poured over their maps. It was obvious that even with her skills, they didn't know what they were doing. They would both be dead before they reached their destination.

Letting out a worried sigh, he approached them. "Where is it you're headed to?"

They both looked up to him, surprised, then looked at each other. Baenir moved in closer, looking to where the Altmer's finger was pointed to on the map. "Falkreath?"

"You're headed to Falkreath?!" He shook his head, garnering him a frown from her and a puzzled look from the Altmer she was with. "You can't get through there. Not this time of year."

Panic tugged at Lorundiil. _That was the best way! His father had told him!_ Trying hard not to sound as though he were disputing him, he straightened up his posture and stared down at the map. "There is no other way through those mountains, _and we have got to go there!"_

Baenir's one good eye went between them both as he shook his head. "I'm tellin you, there ain't nothin in Skyrim worth goin through Pale Pass for! You'll both be dead!"

She watched him and after a moment he nodded to her. She could see the worry on his face. She believed him. He wouldn't lie to them. What gain would he have from it? And sailing these waters, knowing this area, he definitely had more knowledge than them.

"Look, I don't know why you're takin this route into Skyrim and it ain't none of my business. But you don't want to get anywhere near the Highlands right now, nor the Hammerfell border. Not only the storms to worry over, but there's lot of trouble off that way. And the Pass... " he shook his head, loose wavy hairs fluttering about his face in the breeze. "no one takes that anymore... no one."

Easing up beside them he looked at their maps, finally just taking them in his hands with them leaning in around him to see. "You get off in Port here, and you go right through the Heartlands on the Silver Road. That'll take you through a pass in the Jerall mountains that's doable. Get you right into the Rift."

Of course, he knew terrain wise, the Pale Pass would've been doable as well, were it not for all the other dangers lurking around the place that posed a threat. This was definitely the best way for them.

His one good eye, almost blood red with just a hint of warm brown looked between them. "From Riften you can take a carriage... take you right into Falkreath for a small sum. Safer."

They looked at one another. She knew he didn't want to go to Riften, but now it seemed they had no choice. It would also shave a good week of travel off them. Going the other way was tacking on at least seven to ten more days, whereas this way would only take around ten days total and they'd be across the border. Lorundiil had agreed, but wasn't happy about it.

The mooring lines were now being secured. Baenir leaned in closer to them, carefully eyeing the other Altmer on the ship, he lowered his voice. "You mentioned earlier that you were going to have horses? Are they waiting for you?"

Lorundiil's eyes narrowed a little, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Without saying another word, the Bosmer bent over and took one of their extra bags, motioning for them to follow him down the gangplank. Picking up their gear, they followed him closely, watching where he led them.

Almost immediately they saw their meeting party. A Thalmor soldier stood with two others, holding onto the reigns of their horses. The pack horse was already loaded with a tent and furs rolled up on it's back, side bags stuffed with food and water.

After taking a quick look at their parchments, the soldier leading the group made his mark on the orders, tucking it away in the envelope he handed the reigns to Sunnabe. Looking through his glass armored helmet, his amber eyes bore into Lorundiil's. "I suggest you both get where you need to go." His eyes finding their way down to Sunnabe, assessing her. "Before nightfall."

Practically shoving the envelopes into Lorundiil's chest, he turned on his heels and walked away, the others following closely behind him. Within moments, they'd disappeared into the crowd. For a moment all he could do was think about what he'd just said to him. _Why was nightfall so important?_

Everywhere they looked were Imperial soldiers and Thalmor of all ranks. Lorundiil looked down at her, seeing the obvious agitation that was beginning to show on her face. _Were there too many people? Not just too many people, too many that were not Mer? Too many soldiers?_

She was used to the Isles now. Being surrounded by their people. Her's _and_ his. Sure there had been some other races there as well. Khajiit, and the occasional Imperial, but mostly it was just Mer. There were rarely any Nords there unless they were traitors that were working with the Dominion, or were being held as prisoners. He looked around, seeing all the Nords. _Was that it?_

Baenir and Lorundiil both watched her now. Watched where her eyes were landing as she scanned over the crowds of people. It was the Thalmor. She was picking the Thalmor out of the crowd, literally _moving_ so she could see their faces!

Baenir swallowed, watching in awe as she slightly opened her mouth to taste the air. Giving Lorundiil a leery look, he wasn't sure whether to ask him or her. Looking back at her, he decided it best to address the Altmer. "Are... are you trying to find someone?"

Shaking his head no, Lorundiil walked directly in front of her, intentionally cutting off her view! His voice a harsh whisper as he stared down into her face! "Sunnabe! What are you doing?!"

Suddenly her face went slack and she looked at him, realization coming back into her eyes, along with a flood of color that now stained her cheeks. She was supposed to be watching out for him! Keeping him safe! Assessing the situation to look for any dangers... and what had she done? She'd put her goals before their mission. This was the exact thing that Ancano had warned her about.

Just thinking his name made her want to cringe. Just the knowledge that the self-serving bastard had been right, infuriated her! Looking down at their feet, she shook her head. She was mortified. Now he probably was wondering what he'd done by taking her as a guard.

"I'm... I am... please forgive me."

Lorundiil backed away, giving her a discerning look. He wouldn't chastise her now, he would wait till they were alone and then he _would_ find out what was going on!

Instead of mounting their horses, they walked them. Baenir led the pack horse, completely nonchalant as if he were part of their group. Lorundiil walked ahead to join him, giving her the time she needed to recover from her err without being under his watchful eye. "Do you not need to stay with the ship?"

Baenir looked ahead, "We're to be docked here for two days before she makes way. Durin that time we're given leave. I figured I'd see you off... " he glanced up at the taller Mer, "you know... make sure you're on the right path and all."

Looking around, it was still easy to see in some spots that battle had taken place, even if it was a long time ago. Some of the buildings were still under repair or just not being repaired at all. A scant few here and there looked deserted. Perhaps the owners were killed and someone had yet to take possession of them.

"Are you always this friendly to people you don't know? Or is it because of her?" Lorundiil motioned back to Sunnabe with his head.

Baenir let out a laugh, still staring ahead. "Really neither. Though I am nice to most, and it is definitely not because of her" laughing even harder now, "she wouldn't give me a glance even if I paid her."

Lorundiil couldn't help but laugh himself. He was probably right. The whole time they were on the vessel he hadn't noticed her looking at a single Mer the way she had him, and that still worried him. "Alright, I give. Why is it?"

Baenir looked around them cautiously before he finally spoke and then it was so low he had to strain to hear over the noise of the city around them. "I think you're both good Mer," his eyes locked onto Lorundiil's, "at least I think you are."

Lorundiil nodded to him, "Yes, I believe we are."

An almost worried look came over the smaller Mer as he licked his lips, "Are those travel papers you have there... do those mean you're both Thalmor?"

Now it was Lorundiil's turn to look around them, trying hard not to look too suspicious. "No. We are not Thalmor. I am travelling of my own accord and she is my guard. Nothing more, nothing less."

Baenir paused for a moment, halting the horse. They'd finally gotten away from the docks and the crowds were starting to thin a little. He looked at the Altmer with a questioning expression on his face. "Then why's that seal on those parchments? If it's of your own accord."

Sunnabe stood behind them with her mount, listening to every word.

Lorundiil started moving again. Baenir pulled lightly on the reigns, getting his horse moving. "You tell me why it matters, and I'll tell you why I have it... deal?"

The Bosmer rolled his eyes, letting out a sharp breath. "You're askin me to risk my life. You know that. Right?"

Now it was Lorundiil that stopped, looking at him. This was definitely something he hadn't expected. "I can guarantee you that I am _not_ a Thalmor, regardless of that seal! You're life is secure with us!"

Sunnabe stared at her Master in question, listening to their exchange.

Baenir nodded at him and moved in closer to whisper. "Those papers you have there guarantee you and your party safe passage into Skyrim... you realize this, yes?"

Lorundiil just nodded to him, the meaning still escaping him.

Baenir, noticing the look on his face, began walking once more. They were almost at the junction where the Red Ring Road met the Silver, the sun was getting low in the sky. If they were going to do this, they had to hurry.

"Those papers are valuable to anyone that wants freedom." The Bosmer looked over at him, the fear in his eyes was still apparent, but it was nothing in comparison to what else was there. "If you're gonna arrest me, the time is now. You know what I've just spoken is a death sentence, right?"

Lorundiil thought about his own travelling companion, walking just behind him, listening to every word. She didn't know about his feelings toward the Dominion, nor of what his true plans were. Struggling with what he would say, he glanced over to him. "You have nothing to fear from us Baenir. I will not deny anyone of their freedom."

Lorundiil watched as the Bosmer nodded, looking toward the road up ahead of them. "Alright, you need a guide to get you through the mountain pass. I can vouch for his worth and capability. His asking price is passage along with you into Skyrim."

He had to make this decision himself. He couldn't even glance back at her in question, for if he did, it would make her think he wasn't capable of leading them. _And_ he needed her allegiance! If he ended up coming clean about his plans, he needed to know she would be with him, not against him. "As long as he is trustworthy and can lead us, I will allow it. Do not make me regret taking him into Skyrim Baenir! if he's wanted... "

The Bosmer cut him off. "Good! He's meeting us just off the Silver Road a little past nightfall. There I will make camp with you and then come back alone in the morn to board my vessel."

Now he almost regretted agreeing to it. If he wasn't wanted, then why in Oblivion were they waiting till nightfall!

********

Finally they mounted their horses. Much to Sunnabe's chagrin, Baenir pairing up with her, sitting in the front so he had control of the reigns. They kept a slow gate as night came, watching the sides of the roadway, listening to all of the night sounds.

It was all so different than in the Isles, even that of Skyrim. Of course, the only area she'd been accustomed to was Whiterun hold. She'd never been anywhere else except her homeland and she was so small when they left she could barely remember anything. Her only real memories were that it was very green and it was always warm.

Suddenly a bright, but brief glow a ways off the road caught their attention. It looked to her almost like that of a wisp. It was a blueish white light and quite small, in somewhat of a teardrop shape, then fading away. They stopped, looking for it again. Sunnabe pointed, tugging on Baenir's sleeve! There!

The light flashed again. Once, twice... then a third time.

Baenir whispered, "It's him! Let's go."

Sunnabe met Lorundiil's eyes, not really worried, but still a little unsure about what they were doing. She also didn't understand why he'd told the sailor that he wasn't Thalmor. His family was Thalmor and he was traveling under their orders.

Raising her head in the direction that the light came from, she smelled the air as they left the roadway, opening her mouth to taste the scent. The area and it's smells, sights and sounds still seemed so foreign to her. She hated not knowing what was around her!

The fact that it may take another day or so to really acclimate made them vulnerable, it made _her_ feel vulnerable. It would hamper her abilities to keep them safe!

Before she saw them, she smelled them. Two males. No, three, and three females.

Before Baenir could utter a sound, her blade was at his throat! Her other arm tightened around him as her mouth was pushed against his ear! Her heated words burning against his flesh! "Stop!!! It's a trap!"

Lorundiil froze, pulling the reigns to halt his horse! His eyes wide as he stared around into the darkness! Unsure as to what he should do, not knowing if it was safe to cast a light or remain still, he turned his head toward her and Baenir.

The Bosmer's hands were raised away from the reigns, his voice squeaked out, "It's not a trap! I swear!"

Letting up on the blade just enough for him to speak, she growled into his ear. "Tell your comrades to come forth! Tell them to cast aside their weapons and move slowly, lest you meet your end!"

Very carefully, he nodded against her grip, speaking into the night. "Co- come forward... slow! So they can see you! No weapons!"

They stared into the darkness, listening to footsteps as whoever was out there approached. Sunnabe holding the dagger to Baenir's throat, she listened. Listened and smelled, breathing in through her nose.

Small, careful footsteps, slipped through the grass.

One male, large, wearing worn leather boots. A second male... Mer, wearing ankle high moccasins. Two females. No... more than that.

The slight sound of a vacuum went off as the air changed around Lorundiil's hand. He cast a magelight spell, sending it to land at the feet of the closest male in the approaching group. Everyone in the small party stopped dead in their tracks.

Taking in the sight before them, her grip around him loosened as she lowered her blade. Lorundiil was dismounting, walking slowly toward them.

A tall, broad shouldered Imperial wearing mage's robes stood about fifteen paces away, his arms raised to shield those that stood behind him. Sunnabe watched as a small hand appeared at the man's waist. Dark hair, as a child's head peeked around him to see.

Knowing that there was no way to escape, the Bosmer family stepped forward from behind their protector.

A family. A father and his son, perhaps five years at the most, stood to one side. The mother, carrying an infant. Their two daughters, standing one on each side of her, to the other.

Baenir swallowed, looking between them as Lorundiil carefully approached. "This is Savin... Savin Acculus. He's the one we were to meet."

Lorundiil turned to him, his green eyes wide, his mouth agape. "You... you're smuggling them! This is what you needed our papers for?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Winston Churchill
> 
> Yes, there will be some new OC's in the story, if you haven't guessed already. Not main characters by a long shot, but they will be in the mix right up till the end.
> 
> I used some Oblivion lore to aid me in this. Some pretty interesting stuff regarding the Pale Pass and the Jerall mountains, Bruma and so on. I've never played that particular game before, but now I may make the time to.


	39. Guilty By Association

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nelanare had told her that there were good and bad in their own races, as well as that of man. Some men, he said, like her Wolf were good. They wanted to live side by side with the Mer and share Tamriel.
> 
> Of course she knew this. She had since she was left alone. Her wolf and his followers had wanted to live peacefully with her. The Nord that she'd first come to know, he'd protected her. Just thinking of it all made her heart ache. She missed him so. Both of them. She would've never hurt _them... not them._
> 
> Looking over at Savin as he walked beside the horse the mother and her daughters now rode upon, his hood covering the ritual paint from her eyes that he constantly wore. Even if it was against the Dominion's wishes, he _was_ helping them. Her own Ata had probably required some help as well to get them this far. 
> 
> Perhaps this Imperial was one of the good ones. If so, he would be kept alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going through all of the trip, because I'm eager to get to the next one, but there will be lots of flashback. I hated to split this up but there was just so much to cover and again, i couldn't wait to get it posted.
> 
> You're also about to find out some of what she's been taught by Nelanare. It's a bit of a fucked up view, but remember who's ass he was covering when he taught her this. There will be a lot more of that to come as well.  
> Remember also, this _is_ Pro-Stormcloak, even though it may not seem like it for awhile. Don't lose hope.

_Her Ata's soft, rich voice spoke beside her as he held her hand._ _'Now hold real still Sunnabe.'_

_And she had. She had held so still. The dark skin of the healer's hand was so wrinkled and thin that she swore she could almost see through it as it touched her face. The bone needle dipped perfectly in the dye, coming down again and again with such precision. The healer's apprentice, dabbing periodically over the places that were done with soft leather, dampened with herbal astringent and healing fluids._

_Their lineage... their story, mapped out on her face. This was who she was._

 _Her face was a little sore, but she still beamed up at her Ata! He was proud! She hadn't cried a single tear._

_There would be a celebration tonight just for her!_

_Then her Ata's smiling face melted away. Now there were only tears as they made trails down the dark skin of his face. His whiskers tickled where he whispered in her ear, smoothing her hair with his other hand. 'Do not weep angua kynd (my child)... we will see them again. We will.'_

 _She wanted to believe him... she did. But her heart, it wasn't telling her the same thing as he was. Their settlement was empty. The trees, they were empty._

_All of her people were gone._

She woke with a start. 

Looking around her, it took a moment for her surroundings to become familiar. The elflings were all snuggled into what remained of the furs with their parents. The baby, now unwrapped from the papoose he traveled in, so he could stretch freely. His little arms and legs spread wide around him. His thick, dark hair sticking out in crazy angles. She couldn't help but smile as she took him in.

Lorundiil was turned toward her, laying in a fetal position. Her eyes combed over his face. So peaceful he slept. So sound.

There was no solace in sleep, not for her. For it brought only painful memories. Memories that she'd tried so hard to lock away. To push back. She didn't want to forget them for they were dear, many of the memories. But now, even the good ones seem to only bring pain and suffering.

That's all she seemed to feel now as they traveled. Agony at the reminders of her own loss surrounded her every time she looked at _any_ of them. Agony at the awakening of emotions that she no longer wanted to feel. 

Feeling them would only result in weakness, and she knew what that brought. It brought death. Death and more agony. 

She almost felt as though she were being punished by their presence. 

**********

She remembered sitting upon her mount in complete shock, as Lorundiil had walked toward them. Baenir climbed down from the horse they shared, greeting his Imperial contact and the Bosmer family that had hidden behind him.

She'd looked down at the Elflings as they clutched at their mother's side, their eyes wide, staring at her. It'd taken every ounce of strength she had not to break down, not to forget everything that she'd learned and been taught. To run to them and get down on her knees and promise them that everything would be okay, that she would make sure of it! That she would protect them with her life! She would keep them safe from all who would harm them! 

Because someone _would_ harm them. Someone _wanted_ to harm them. And if that happened... if the same fate befell this family... these Elflings, that had befallen her own family and herself, she wouldn't stop. There was no place that would be safe, because she would never stop until their blood was spilled! There wouldn't be enough left of their broken bodies to feed the buzzards! _There would be justice!_

The very instant that she'd realized what was taking place, it'd actually taken minutes simply for her to speak. To speak without her voice cracking and wavering, betraying her to all that stood before her. Just taking them in. 

From that moment on, Lorundiil hadn't looked at her the same. He saw her shock... her emotion. It was as if he were trying to figure out who she really was. Truth was, he hadn't known from the very beginning and she knew this. Just as she hadn't known him, and still didn't. Not yet.

Her walls were beginning to crumble, at least where _he_ was concerned. With all that was happening now, she had no choice anymore. The fact that she had to let him in was terrifying her. But they couldn't work together successfully without this, and she knew it. It was inevitable.

But now, with this family. She couldn't let go of every ounce of inner protection she'd built up and secured over the years. She just couldn't. Every time she looked at them it was like peering back in time. A close up and personal glimpse from the outside at her Ata, her mother and herself. It made her wish that she could remember things clearer. 

She could tell that even though they had another Bosmer in their company, they were untrusting. Even after assuring them that they would have safe travel across the border, they were still leery. She understood, but Lorundiil was hit hard by it all. She could tell. He seemed overly touched by the whole situation, especially what the family was having to endure. 

He also had taken great interest in the Imperial and Baenir, but she didn't think it was for the same reasons as she now did. And the nagging realization that he was hiding something from her kept growing stronger.

He acted like he wanted to tell Baenir, who still, even after they agreed to travel with this family and the renegade Imperial that was leading them to freedom, acted like he had doubts about them... questions. 

But Lorundiil was evidently afraid that she would hear, or know. That perhaps whatever his secret was, would have some sort of negative effect on their standing, but she was bound to him and nothing could change that. She had an obligation to not only him, but to Nelanare as well.

After the initial shock had worn off some and reassurances given, introductions were finally made.

Savin Acculus, an Imperial battlemage that had gone awol from the Imperial legion, over circumstances that he still had yet to share, was their guide and evidently guard or protector, _also_ for reasons that had yet to be explained.

Anorthil was the father, and the young male child who was in fact only aged five years that was inseparable from him, was Maedon.

The mother was Lorlwen, who had their twin girls at her side, Minneth and Milrwen, of course both aged seven. And in her arms, was their baby boy, Engothil, three months. 

Knowing they wouldn't be stopping for awhile before they made camp and not wanting to get too far from the city, Baenir had said his goodbyes to not only the family, but to Savin, taking him aside and speaking to him quietly. 

She and Lorundiil stood by and watched as they embraced each other, the Imperial so large next to Baenir that it almost looked like an adult's embrace with that of a child.

Finally, Lorundiil strode up to them, leaving her. And she _did_ hear what _he_ said, for he said it loud enough for all to hear.

Putting his hand to the Bosmer's shoulder, 'Please, come with us. There is nothing stopping you and we are stronger in numbers. You could settle there with us!'

A look of shock flashed across the Bosmer's face at Lorundiil's obvious concern. Savin stared down at him with an almost pleading look on his tanned, painted face. 'He's right Baenir, this is to be my last trip.'

A pained look overtook him, putting his hands to his hips, Baenir questioned his words. She could hear the strain in his voice as he asked him why. 'There are so many that need our aid! More and more are coming each day! How can you just stop?'

The Imperial shook his head slowly, the pain apparent in his own voice. 'I have no choice now. I came close to arrest several times just trying to get _them_ across! We got lucky this time with you finding these two.' Tilting his cloaked head in Lorundiil's direction. 

'I'm no help to anyone dead. And I plan to stay with this family once we arrive... help keep them safe. There are dangers there too Baenir!' Now he lowered his voice some, 'I don't want to see another family fall to peril because they were taken across and then just left!'

Lorundiil nodded, 'He's right! What's to keep _you_ from getting caught? What then?'

Her eyes darted to Savin as he cut in, 'You _know_ he's right! It's only a matter of time. It's getting harder and harder with each trip.'

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Baenir's hand came up to touch his friend's shoulder. The moonlight now visible from a break in the clouds showing the slightest glint of a tear running down his ruined face. 'This is the only life for me.' his voice cracked under the strain, 'I respect your decision, but I cannot stop. If I am found out, then I will at least die knowing I did all I could for my people.'

Forcing a smile through his tears, Baenir struggled to speak. 'I want you to know, I couldn't have done any of it without you, and I cannot thank you enough!' Savin's hand took his again, closing around it.

For just a moment, Baenir's other hand came up around the Imperial's before they released each other. Turning to leave, he gave one last glance back at his friend, 'You keep them safe Savin... whatever you do.'

Savin walked back to where the family stood, one hand settling on the father's shoulder as they watched him depart. Lorundiil walked with the Bosmer for a minute, speaking his last words. 

Pausing with him in the roadway, 'I know you didn't trust me at first, and you may not completely still. But I need for you to know... I have the greatest admiration for what you are doing... both of you. The risks that you are taking. But are you sure- '

Taking the Lorundiil's hand, Baenir's face broke into that same smile that had captivated him so on the ship. 'And I was being honest when I told you before. I am exactly where I need to be.' 

The Bosmer's good eye twinkled in the moonlight before it disappeared behind the clouds once again, 'I sincerely hope Lorundiil, that someday you find where it is that _you_ need to be.' Giving the Altmer's hand a slight squeeze, 'You will know when you get there.'

For a good few minutes Lorundiil just stood in the road, watching as the Bosmer faded away into the night. 

A family of six and their guide, was now traveling with them. 

Instead of taking back to the road, they kept about ten yards to the side of it, so as to not be seen. The first whole night had been absolutely steeped in the feeling of loss. They were all mourning Baenir's departure, even Lorundiil. She could literally feel it coming off from all of them.

Savin, she could understand, he'd evidently been a comrade to the Bosmer, helping him in their endeavor. But Lorundiil, she could not. 

They'd just met him on the ship two days ago. They had their own responsibilities to think over and now this was added to it! The truth was that she didn't _want_ to think about it. The fact that Lorundiil had offered him to join them... to settle with them. When had he planned to settle there?

The Bosmer family, even with seeing Lorundiil's display, still stayed incredibly close to Savin, making her wonder exactly when and how the family had met him. How long had they known him?

Lorlwen and her two girls rode one mount, Sunnabe the other, with Maedon seated in front of her. 

This had taken some time, as the boy was loath to leave his father's side. Much to Lorundiil's shock, even as the little Bosmer made his distress known to his father, he was almost completely silent. All of them were silent. The children, even the infant. That was definitely something he'd never seen. 

While he seemed overwhelmingly astounded by this, she could have explained it to him. Bosmer children were not only raised to be constantly conscious of their surroundings, but to be one with the nature they dwell within. This was how _she_ had been taught from the time of her birth.

Her Ata had told her stories of their people. Boiche. Some of these stories, along with what little bits of memory remained of her family and her studies while with his Uncle told her all. It was in their blood. Their very being. 

One of these Elflings could be alone in the wood, and would be safe for an unknown period of time. They would blend in to their surroundings, just like she had. They were one with Nirn. 

But she couldn't tell him all that right now. And even if she did, he may not understand.

He was becoming engrossed in them, distracted. His lack of fear over showing his emotion to all that were around him was beginning to bother her. It aroused a curiosity in her that made her want to learn more about him, but it still bothered her. The fact that she was curious bothered her. He was very different than most Altmer she'd met. 

He had become a distraction, and anything that was a distraction bothered her.

She'd been distracted before and had lost her Wolf because of it. He was dead because she got distracted. She wouldn't see that mistake revisited. His foolish emotions were going to cause them more trouble than they needed.

She'd forced herself to take her eyes away from him as he constantly watched the family. This was just one more thing for her to worry over now. Trying to keep him alive had been one of her only priorities. Up till now. 

Now he was acting as if he wanted to befriend the Imperial, and even she herself couldn't let anything happen to this family. He'd gone so far as to give the Father and Mother his word that they were welcome to stay with them. Settle with them. 

She wanted them safe too. But now thoughts of how they would carryout their duties... namely, _her_ duties, while they were with them in Skyrim haunted her! 

They had rode for several more hours that night before stopping. The sun still set early this time of year, giving the impression that because it was dark, that it was later than it actually was. And even here, in a land that was warmer than where they were heading, their breath was visible in the night air.

Lorlwen and their daughters were all clad in doeskin leggings, thick high necked, long sleeved tunics that hung down to mid-thigh, and just like their father, all wore ankle high moccasins. Anorthil and Maedon were dressed almost identically, except for the fur-lined vests they wore. No hats... no boots... no gloves. 

The moccasins would be alright around Whiterun during Rain's Hand even, but not in the mountains and probably not in many other places in Skyrim as well. They would need boots, warmer coverings, and if they were immigrating from Valenwood, they probably wouldn't have anything like that, as there wouldn't have been a need for it there. 

Thinking of Valenwood made her want to see it, at least once more before she died. And thinking of that set her mind on the Isles again... and him.

She didn't understand why she couldn't return! _Why_ could she never see him again? _What if Lorundiil decided to go back after his journey was over? What if he decided not to stay? She couldn't really see him never going back, not with his family being in the Isles. Could she not go with him? Why did it have to be this way?_

She'd had to shake her head to dispel the cumbersome thoughts. She was heartsick and nothing more! She needed to focus on the family that was with them and what supplies they had and what they needed. Which was going to end up costing them more time than they wanted to spend getting there. 

Of course they would need to hunt for meat. They didn't want to use up all their dried supplies in case they were in a position where they couldn't get fresh. What would take the time, was preparing the hides so they could be used for clothing. And there were six of them. There simply wouldn't be enough time. 

That meant using the furs they'd been supplied with for shelter. They would end up being made into coats, boots and hats. And if they had no warmth for their shelter... beds.

With her concern over the warmth of their attire, Sunnabe wondered over the infant, as she hadn't been able to get a good look at him. Once they were ready to travel again, his mother had strapped him right back onto her chest in the sturdy leather papoose that he was enclosed in. 

Now Sunnabe realized why she had removed him when they realized there may be danger. She was preparing to hand him to one of their daughters, so her hands would be free to fight if the need arose. Luckily, it hadn't.

If that knowledge had been made to her counterpart, he would've all but died from the shock of it. She could only imagine the look that would've covered his face. A mother, handing her infant off to another child in preparation to fight a battle.

She smiled as she thought about it. Holding to one of the first impressions she'd gotten at meeting him. Yes, he was an accomplished Mage and very powerful, but he was raised in a proper home... a royal's home. With a mother of refinement. Within a society that demanded propriety be met at all times.

Anytime she thought about this, she wondered over who he would be paired with in the end... what race? The more she was around him actually, the more she was apt to think that he may not have ever had a partner. That intrigued her. 

No, he'd been so overtaken by the emotional aspects of the situation, that he hadn't even noticed what the female Bosmer was carrying, other than her child.

Her weapons may have been hidden to Lorundiil, but they weren't to _her!_ Just under the hem of her long tunic, were the telltale points of two blades, both carved from bone. One on each hip. She was prepared to do battle. She would do whatever it took to keep them safe. Just like her own mother had done with her. 

Each second they were in this land, their lives were at risk. She wondered if they knew the risks that lay ahead in the land where they sought their freedom? Where her family had evidently sought their's. If they knew that their lives would still be at risk? 

Her own parents, among many that now fled their homeland, didn't want the Thalmor's rule. They didn't want the Empire's or the Nord's rule either. They wanted to rule themselves. They wanted things to be the way they were, before another tried to rule all. 

But she wondered if there ever was a time such as that. When no one had tried to rule over the rest. Nothing in all her studies had shown such. Perhaps this was always how it had been and how it always would be. An eternal struggle for freedom.

She _did_ remember her Ata talking to her mother once about that very thing though. About simply wanting to be free from another's rule. And even though she loved Nelanare and the Altmer people, she understood why they'd left. But was being in a strange land, that was home to a hostile race that didn't want you there, any better than where they'd left? 

To her it seemed that a Mer, being under Mer law was better than being under man's law. To _her_ it seemed that it would be better to stay in your own land and be ruled by your own.

As it was, her people were running out of places to go.

That fact was eating at her. Eating at her! In the back of her mind, she knew from whom this family was fleeing, and she _knew_ from whom the real danger came, and it wasn't who Baenir thought it was! Not really. 

The Thalmor wanted them to remain in their homeland to keep them safe from the Imperial's and the Nords. Men... Mankind. That's why she didn't understand why the Imperial was helping them, when his people were among their real enemy.

There would be Nords and Imperials both, in the land that they now headed to. There would be more there now, than when she was little and it would be worse because of the civil war that now raged.

The question that nagged at her most, was _how would she keep them safe?_ When they were going straight into a land that was torn. A land that was filled with Nords that wanted them out! Imperials that were fighting for her people only because they _had to!_

They had no choice. They'd tried to decimate her people and Lorundiil's... Nelanares! Hence his and so many other's loathing for them! They wanted all the Mer dead or in chains! Even in defeat they had to be constantly watched, lest they turn on them again. 

If they had their choice, her kind would have been chased down to all the ends of Nirn! Hiding away like the Falmer had been forced to do, until each and every single one was laying dead or enslaved.

The only reason the Thalmor were in Skyrim was to protect the Mer and ensure that the Imperials that had sworn fealty to them were remaining loyal. They needed to gain control of the rebellious Nords before things got too out of hand. It wasn't just them that needed dealing with, it was the Thalmor that took her parent's lives and had wanted to take her's!

Nelanare had told her that they'd gone rogue. They'd been in the land of men, attempting to help his people and her's survive against the Nords that wanted them gone. They were supposed to protect them and they hadn't. He'd told her that there were good and bad in their own races, as well as that of man. Some men, he said, like her Wolf were good. They wanted to live side by side with the Mer and share Tamriel.

Of course she knew this. She had since she was left alone. Her wolf and his followers had wanted to live peacefully with her. The Nord that she'd first come to know, he'd protected her. Just thinking of it all made her heart ache. She missed him so. Both of them. She would've never hurt _them... not them._

She would never harm someone that wasn't a threat. Someone simply because of their race or any other reason. She hadn't wanted to kill the young Nords in her last match, but there was no way around it. They were prisoners and they would've died. It was better for them to die by her hand, than their captor's. 

_She_ had mercy. It had bothered her because she knew they were good, she could feel it. There was absolutely no glory in the killing of someone that wasn't a threat.

Looking over at Savin as he walked beside the horse the mother and her daughters now rode upon, his hood covering the ritual paint from her eyes that he constantly wore. Even if it was against the Dominion's wishes, he _was_ helping them. Her own Ata had probably required some help as well to get them this far. 

Was it right for her to try and deny someone the right to rule themselves? To choose by what and who's rule they lived under? And where they did it? No. She couldn't scorn them for it.

Perhaps this Imperial was one of the good ones. If so, he would be kept alive.

Everything that Nelanare had taught her, went round and round in her head. She loved him, and through every fiber of her being, she knew that he was right in his view toward the one that now split the land of Skyrim and her people. Of what his reign could mean to every Mer that walked Tamriel! She knew that he was right! 

He must be found and handled. Just like the ones that killed her parents. 

Instead of having him beheaded for his foul deeds, Nelanare had kept Estormo alive for her. That was her gift for living through it all and staying alive. Staying alive and then learning all he'd taught her so well. 

Now she could hunt him the way she'd always dreamed of. 

She would take him down in the same manner that her people used to take down an enemy in their homeland. And when he was dead, she would feast upon his flesh. Feast upon him till nothing but the useful parts remained. Then she would use them. His skull, his ribs... every single bone would be put to use. His beautiful skin and hair, his stomach. And each time she used a piece of him, she would remember her victory.

Then she would find the other.

Now looking at this family and their plight. What had happened to her own. She didn't know what to do. And this Imperial. Who was their real enemy? That was what she had to figure out, and she would do just that as they traveled.

Perhaps she would find the answers she needed before they reached their destination. Once they got to Whiterun, there were some personal tasks she had that needed to be seen to fruition. 

Her eyes had landed on Lorundiil, walking on the opposite side of the horse from the Imperial, holding the reigns of their pack horse that walked behind him. As soon as they got to Whiterun, he would see... he would know what she'd been keeping hidden. 

But that meant he would have to share with _her_ as well. She would possibly find out what his true intentions were and what he was keeping from her. 

With them constantly surrounded by the others, that would prove difficult. Somehow, they would have to get them settled in a secure area, so they could have some alone time. 

*********

Her eyes scanned over him again. Yes... she was ready for some alone time. With him or without. 

Breathing in through her nose, she sat up and reached over his sleeping form to gather her outer coverings. It would do no good to relive every moment of this and the teepee was starting to feel too warm now that she was awake. Even with the small fire pit that sat in the center down to just embers, it was borderline stifling. 

Picking up her bow, she strapped it to her back. She would relieve Savin early, let him get some sleep. Tomorrow they would be crossing over the border into the Rift. They would need him rested if they encountered any trouble.

He was powerful. Just another reminder of what their people had dealt with during the war... another reason she was glad that he'd turned.


	40. Out In The Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He, himself, was running from his own Military and his duties as they saw them. But no one here would recognize _him._ If anything, simply being the race that he was, would be the thing to bring them trouble.
> 
> That in itself terrified him to a certain extent. He'd never been treated differently before, and that was one thing that Savin had definitely forewarned him about while they had been traveling here. 
> 
> Of course, his own father had given him some words of warning. Some things to think over. But it hadn't really hit home until they were ready to cross through those gates. In Cyrodiil, there had been Mer and other races aplenty. Here, he would be seen as an enemy. Someone that couldn't be trusted. A spy.

**

Sitting around the fire that very first night they'd made camp in the Heartlands, the stones were stacked high so the light wouldn't be visible from too far off. Savin walked from the trees that surrounded them and dropped the pile of sticks that he'd gathered. Lorundiil moved closer to him to help break them down to the size they needed. 

As soon as the wood was dropped into the pit, the girls turned, hiding their eyes against their mother's body. Even holding their infant boy, she attempted to hold them and console them.

Sunnabe sat there, watching the reaction of the children. Watching as their mother and their Ata fought to control their expressions. Fighting to stay strong, not only in front of their children, but also amidst those they now traveled with. Savin himself, struggled to keep his expression neutral. He sat there with Lorundiil at his side, in between himself and her, trying to keep his eyes on the fire, stealing a glance here and there at the family that was huddled together. A constant shuffle between sympathy for their situation and respect, periodically crossing his face.

She remembered her own Ata. How his tears had fallen. How grief stricken they'd been.

This was blasphemy. It was sin. To burn wood... it was a travesty. No amount of explaining why it was necessary, the facts that the land, weather, and all the other conditions that were so very different from their homeland, would take their pain away. The fact remained, that here, if they did not burn wood for heat, they would die. 

Looking at the girls, their faces buried against their mother. Maedon, sitting beside his father. He was trying so hard to act as his father did, but regardless of how he fought to maintain the appearance of control, tears streaked down the dark skin of his small face, landing on the shoulders and chest of his tunic. 

Finally, Anorthil's arm went around him, holding him tightly. It was only then that he broke and turned his face into his Ata's side. The arm around him tightened. The boy was utterly silent in his weeping. The only telltale sign, being the subtle shaking of his body against his Ata's.

The feeling of grief hung so heavy in the air around them, that it became almost suffocating. No longer able take it, Lorundiil brought his elbows to his knees, folding his hands in front of his face to hide his own tears that now flowed. Savin leaned closer in to Lorundiil, speaking low. "There is hope, now that you both are with us. But even with that hope, they will still mourn."

This was something that would always stay with her, no matter what happened. Seeing this family go through what her own had. Her parents had mourned, but she had been too small and too overwhelmed by their new surroundings to be as sorrowful as they had been. To her, once she had stepped into this new land, the pain from not seeing her people had been somewhat taken away, and thankfully so, by all the new things there were for her to explore.

As the gates of Helgen came into her view from the floor of the crowded carriage, she thought of that night. How Lorundiil, so overcome with emotion, had swallowed loudly, wiping at his wet face with the backs of his thumbs, keeping his hands raised to shield himself from view. He'd struggled to keep his voice low and even as he spoke. "They've had to leave their home... all they know. I mourn with them. I too, want hope to see my homeland and my family once again."

The Imperial's hazel eyes had bore into the side of his face, finally forcing him to meet his gaze full on. All eyes had been upon him, staring at him in confusion.

Except for her's.

**

Seeing the gates up ahead gave them all some welcome relief. They'd made it.

Finally being able to remove some of the heavier coverings they'd all donned to protect themselves from the harsh cold. They were all packed away, but still at the ready if they needed them. And they more than likely would. The weather in Skyrim was unpredictable and as temperamental as the creatures that took up residence here. But for right now, it was warm. Warm compared to what they'd gone through to get here anyway.

The weather in Cyrodiil had been fairly stable, at least until they'd gotten to the mountain range. Now there wasn't a trace of the snow they'd just left. The trees were all covered in fat buds, some sporting new, bright green leaves. Rain's Hand was truly upon them, she could smell it in the air. 

The farmers would be readying their fields for planting. More than likely all the tilling done a few weeks ago. The colder regions, however, would still have a few weeks or more to go before they could till, as they would still have snow on the ground. The places that were colder than that would have green houses, many using the shelter of caves or ruins that held openings for the sun to peek through to grow what they could. 

The caves, she'd seen for herself. As for the ruins though, Nelanare had been the one to tell her of ruins such as these. He'd also told her that many parts of Skyrim relied heavily on the trade that came in on the many ships, more so with each passing season. Which had made her wonder even more about Ulfric, and if he'd even thought about his actions, and the ramifications that would affect the land's people in their wake.

All their gear resting firmly packed on one horse. Lorlwen, with Engothil strapped to her chest, and both girls, rode the other. Finally coming up to the gates, they stopped. Savin stayed back with the family, tucked in as close to the stones as possible, behind the branches of the giant white pines that'd grown too close.

There would have been a time when these gates were tended to and kept clear of such things. There would have been constant guards posted, to not only check for proper travelling documents, but to keep raiders and the like, out of Skyrim. That time was gone. They were completely deserted, standing in disrepair, the forest that surrounded them taking them over.

They would send a scout through first. Someone to make sure the way was clear, before the rest of the group made their way through. It would be her.

Climbing into the pine that now sheltered the rest from view, she looked over the wall. There was no one. Not a soul. Dead, fallen trees lay here and there, giving more than enough proof that this was a forgotten place. 

Her ears perked up, listening. Only the wildlife was here. Far off in the distance she could hear the noises of civilization, but it was no one that would be coming here. They were safe. For now. 

As quietly and as slowly as possible, they were led through. She could feel the uneasiness spread through the group as they took in the state of their surroundings. There was still hope and relief, along with some excitement. But there was also uncertainty. She could relate to all of these.

Savin's eyes scanned the woods as they walked along the path. He whispered to her and Lorundiil, as they passed the torch lit entrance to what appeared to be a cave, surrounded by what was left of some fallen trees. "The further we all get from the gates, the less suspicious we will appear. If Imperials approach us further in, they probably won't even stop us. And if they do, we can just say we've all lived here for some time and we're heading to Whiterun."

Sunnabe leaned in closer to be heard. "What about you? Will they not wonder why you're not amongst them?"

Savin's mouth twisted a little, his eyes narrowing. "I probably shouldn't flaunt myself. I mean, there's a reason I don't travel with papers."

Lorundiil attempted to stop the noise from the groan that escaped him from rising and failed. "So you're wanted! They'll know you?!" leaning in to the Imperial from the other side, panic fighting to overwhelm him. "Did you leave your ranks?! What good are you to us, _or them,_ if you can't even show your face?!"

Leading them off the road, Savin raised his face skyward, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. "Look! It's not wise for us to argue in the middle of this particular roadway, about something that can be discussed once we're all in a safe local! And _no,_ I did not leave my ranks! I never joined them! I left my home, _and_ my family before I had to!"

His hood fell from his face as he lowered it to stare at the ground around his feet. His black hair, tied back, mussed from having it on for so long was blowing in the breeze. "So, they won't know me for leaving their ranks. They'll know me because of who I am." 

They looked at him in question, the Bosmer family surrounding him to the other side. It was finally Anorthil, the father, that spoke up when Savin remained silent. "He is the son of a high official in the Imperial Army."

Even when Savin cringed from his words, the pain of being outed apparent, the Bosmer continued on. "He left his family as soon as word came that the High King had fallen. Before then, he was aiding refugees in secret, behind his family's back. Now it is he, who seeks refuge along with us."

Before Lorundiil could form the words to speak, he closed his gaping mouth, thinking about his own situation. He couldn't fault Savin for anything, except not being forthright about his situation to them before now. And even then it was Just so they would be more prepared when they finally arrived. 

He, himself, was running from his own Military and his duties as they saw them. But no one here would recognize _him._ If anything, simply being the race that he was, would be the thing to bring them trouble.

That in itself terrified him to a certain extent. He'd never been treated differently before, and that was one thing that Savin had definitely forewarned him about while they had been traveling here. 

Of course, his own father had given him some words of warning. Some things to think over. But it hadn't really hit home until they were ready to cross through those gates. In Cyrodiil, there had been Mer and other races aplenty. Here, he would be seen as an enemy. Someone that couldn't be trusted. A spy. 

He would be hated and feared, simply for being the Elf that he was. 

Savin, spoke quite bluntly about it one evening as they made camp. _'We're quite the motley crew you know. People will probably look at the lot of us and gawk in wonder. A family of Bosmer, an Altmer, and an Imperial. And then there's her.'_ He'd motioned with his head towards Sunnabe, as she aided the others in readying their tent for the night. _'She will be feared by the people in any town or city. There's even a chance that simply because of her looks, she may not be allowed inside.'_

"It doesn't matter now." Looking between her and Savin, Lorundiil pointed down the road that would lead them into Riften. "Do we go into town and get a carriage? Where we can all rest some along the way? Or do we travel on foot?"

Glad the conversation had taken a different and more practical route, Savin pulled his map from within his robes, holding it up for them to see. Looking at the marker for Riften, which lay just ahead of them over the small bridge up in the distance and through a sparsely wooded area. He bit his lip, thinking about it. "Well... " taking his finger, he ran it along the road that was marked. "This road right up ahead will take us directly to Helgen, which we can just skirt around. We cut up and go through Riverwood and right into Whiterun. It shouldn't take us more than- " 

Lorundiil cut in. "Or, we can walk right through these woods and we'll be at a carriage that can carry all those that are not already on horseback. We'd be there in two days or three days, instead of seven or eight."

"Look, I've been here before, and I say we walk!" 

Sunnabe's eyes widened in shock. Lorundiil's mouth hung open. Both were completely taken aback by the outburst, as he'd mostly been the quiet sort up till now. Even getting them through the pass in the mountains, he wasn't a loud man even when they'd dealt with enemies. But now, this was new coming from him.

Savin let out a deep sigh, "I know this really seems like the easiest route, but that carriage will take us _through_ Helgen, which is heavily populated with Imperials. Not only inside, but all around her. It will look suspicious as hell if we ask him to take a longer route, and that's not saying he wouldn't laugh right in our faces!" He looked around at all of them in turn. "We already look suspicious enough, there's no reason to draw more attention to ourselves, is there?"

Sunnabe met Lorundiil's eyes. She could see that he understood the reasoning. It's not like they could just jump out when they got too close the city after paying the fee. They were all Mer, save for the painted Imperial that led them. They probably wouldn't be trusted by anyone other than the Mer that already inhabited the land, and those were small in number. No matter what political side the towns or the carriage drivers were on, in this land, a Mer was a Mer, plain and simple.

As soon as the thought had entered her mind, she thought of Whiterun. She thought of the man that she had found. The man that had first tried to communicate with her. Then him. They were all friends with the Mer. They had been friends with her. He had even loved her.

The stab of pain that pierced her chest snapped her out of it. She wouldn't go there... she couldn't.

Lorundiil nodded. "My apologies, Savin. You are right. We go on foot."

Trading places on the horse made it easier on them all, but that hadn't cut down on the amount of breaks they'd needed to take. Even with Lorlwen feeding the babe astride the horse, he still needed to be changed, which gave him the much needed respites from the bindings he was surrounded by so he could stretch. The horses needed rest and water. 

What proved to be the most taxing, was finding a place to make camp that was safe. If not from bandits, it was the wildlife. Which also included Trolls and Spriggans. Of the like that Lorundiil had never seen. 

While out gathering wood their first night there, Savin had told him in a low voice. "Those'll be the least of your worries. There are Werewolves, and from what I've heard recently, Vampires as well."

Lorundiil practically gulped, turning his face away in the hopes of hiding his fear, "I will not come out of this journey with a shred of my pride left in tact! You know that, right? You're scaring me half to death, Savin! I may not sleep at all whilst we travel. What good will my magic be if I am too exhausted to keep my eyes open?!"

Savin held his stomach and laughed, dropping some of his sticks in the process. "You're too young a Mer to be away from your home... that's what I think."

Keeping his eyes safely on the ground, searching for twigs and sticks they could use, Lorundiil whispered. "You have no idea just how accurate your words are."

Savin stopped, leaning over in attempt to search the Mer's face for meaning to his words. "Just how old are you Lorundiil?"

Refusing to look at him, he hurriedly picked up whatever he could find on the ground before him. "It doesn't matter, does it? I'm here. That's all tha- "

A hand on his arm, turning him, forced his throat shut. The words died on his lips as he looked into Savin's eyes. 

By Au-riel, he wanted to talk to someone so very badly! He needed to. Keeping everything bottled up inside of him during the entire trip had been absolutely agonizing. He was hurting over the loss of his homeland and his family. He was unsure and afraid. He felt like a child. And in reality, that's what he was when one took into consideration the age his people lived to. There was no way that he would be away from home at this age. At least not permanently. 

Even if he had joined the Thalmor, he would have been at the training center for a period of years, coming home every few days to see his family. He would've been learning not only from their instructors, but continuing on with his education of other things. Then, as long as numbers weren't drastically needed, he would've remained in Alinor, shadowing his superiors for a time before being stationed elsewhere.

He definitely wouldn't have left to fight being as young and inexperienced as he was. Hence the reason they desired their youths at the age they did, enabling them to gain a foothold early on. Conditioning... it was something that took time. 

He was no leader. Other than traveling occasionally to Riverwatch to see some family of his father's there, and once to Sunhold, he'd rarely stepped foot out of Alinor. Now, he was going to be dealing with only Gods knew what, in a land he was going to be apparently trapped in, where people would hate him. 

He didn't want to answer Savin's question. As much as he needed to talk to someone, he was afraid to. He needed a sounding board. Someone who would listen without passing judgment. Someone that wouldn't think him a coward. He definitely couldn't tell Sunnabe that he was afraid. He couldn't tell her that he was running. _That_ much he was sure of. He didn't really know Savin that well either. 

The Imperial continued to stare into his eyes, waiting for his response. He could feel the heat creeping up into his face and there was still plenty of light left in the sky for the man to see it. "How old are _you,_ Savin?" Seeing the tilt of the Imperial's head, and the narrowing of his hazel eyes, he spoke again before the man could. "You answer my question and I will answer yours. Deal?"

Instead of getting Savin's temper or a refusal to give the information sought, which was what he was expecting, the man began to laugh again. "I'll be aged twenty six when Mid Year arrives."

"You are older than me then." He couldn't bring himself to say the number. It was bad enough that everyone in the group, other than the children, were older than him. Sunnabe being the only exception, as she was now his same age.

Savin was no longer laughing. "How old, Lorundiil." He leaned closer to him, whispering. "You can tell me. Whatever you're afraid of- "

Exhaling through his nose, he dropped the sticks, putting his hands to his hips as he met the Imperial's eyes. "Twenty."

Savin's mouth dropped. Before he could speak, the Mer's fists clenched up, his face coming closer so they were almost nose to nose. "I will be furious with you Savin, if you feel me incompetent due to my age! I'll not tolera- "

Immediately, Savin raised his hands in mock defense. A completely serious look had overtaken his face. He shook his head slowly. "I do not feel you incompetent. I've seen your abilities. Age does not make one incompetent, Lorundiil. Have you forgotten that I am only a bit older than you?"

"No, I haven't." Bending over, he retrieved his sticks and stood to look him in the eye once again. "But I also know that for some years now, you have been risking everything to aid Mer in reaching safety. I, on the other hand, have just left my homeland for the first time, and I am struggling horribly. I feel like an infant in comparison!"

Placing his bundle into the grasp of one arm, Savin placed a hand to Lorundiil's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I want us to be friends, Lorundiil. I want us to trust one another, and we need to be open about things if that is to ever happen."

Very slowly they began the walk back to camp. "I am the last person you have to worry over judging you. Each one of us here is running from something... are we not? You know about me now. Not the entirety, of course. But enough, and that will change as we get to know each other, I'm sure."

"How can you be so sure that we are running?" Lorundiil looked ahead through the trees.

"Because you're being incredibly evasive, that's why." Savin bumped his shoulder with his. "You don't have to hide, Lorundiil. We're both in this together now. Besides, you don't act like any Thalmor I've ever met before." His lips wanted to curve into a grin so badly, but he fought it. "That night in the Heartlands, you said you feared never seeing your family or your home again. Now, if that's not someone running, I don't know what is."

Lorundiil licked his lips, looking around to make sure they were alone before he spoke. "I am running from my responsibilities, as the Thalmor would see it. Just as you did yours, as the Empire and quite possibly, your father would see it."

Savin didn't flinch at the remark, he knew it was accurate. Not only his father, but the majority of his family probably thought he was a traitor. And in all actuality, he was. If they were now aware that he'd helped refugees cross the borders, he did not know. One thing he _did_ know, was that his father would never give up until his body was found. There were probably searches still being conducted in their homeland. Which was why he'd made the decision to get to Skyrim and stay for good. 

"Then how did you get those travel papers? If you're not a Thalmor?"

His eyes scanned the trees. Fearful of prying ears, he lowered his voice yet again. "I do not... I cannot." Finally he stopped and turned to him. "It's complicated, Savin. We must get back and I do not- "

"If we are to trust one another, then you must be honest with me!"

Shifting the bundle nervously, he looked in the direction of the camp, praying that she was still there amongst the family. "I come from royalty. I have lived a sheltered life. I have never had to risk anything until now! My father and mother were the ones that risked everything to save me!" 

"I came from wealth as well Lorundiil. Even though my father expected me to serve the Empire, I still would have been kept in a safe local. But that didn't matter to me. I don't believe in what they're doing!"

"Neither do I believe in what the Thalmor are doing. My entire family, save for my Uncle, doesn't. But I would _not_ have been kept in safe place, Savin. You don't understand how things are with my people! The Thalmor force any family with more than one offspring to sign one of them over to their service. I was that child."

"You are well aware that Skyrim is literally crawling with Thalmor, right?"

Their eyes locked. "As well as Imperials. Looks like we are both in the same situation then."

"Except for the fact that I'm running from my family as well. And now I really want to know how you got those papers."

His stomach cramped up, his mouth watering like he would vomit at any moment. If she heard any of this, he didn't know what the outcome would be. He was afraid to take his eyes off the trees, but yet he wanted to meet the Imperial's gaze. "My... my Uncle... he is in the Dominion. My mother begged him to aid her and my father, in finding a way to release me from their grasp at the risk of their very lives! It was nearing the time for them to forcibly take me when he found Sunnabe."

"What do you mean, _found her_?"

Scanning the trees again, he leaned further in, whispering. "They found her here. She was wild... abandoned as a child." He shook his head, still in disbelief of it all himself. "Somehow he got possession of her, and over a period of almost five years, he trained her in all the arts of war. In all the languages. Then, for a sum of no less than fifty thousand gold, he gave her and I these matching papers. Both sets are identical, marked by all that were necessary to get us both here."

Savin's eyes widened and for the first time, Lorundiil saw real fear in them. "That... that doesn't make any sense. Why would they do that? Train her just to... just to have her travel out with you? Why train her at all? What is her purpose?" 

Lorundiil shook his head, fearful now that Savin wouldn't trust him. The story, though true, was completely outrageous. "I don't know, Savin... I don't know. But my father feared horribly for me leaving with her. He got to see her fight. She is supposed to be a body guard to me, that was what I was told. But I do not know her true goals. I fear if I were to ask, she simply would not tell me, only to then see me as her enemy. I do not dare tell her that the only reason I left my homeland was to flee from them. She loved my Uncle- "

The moment he looked toward their camp, the words died in his throat. Sunnabe stood there in the trees, staring at him. Her face holding no expression at all. 

Swallowing the fluid that filled his mouth, he fought to speak clearly. "We were just on our way back... with the wood."

Her gaze landed on the Imperial. She couldn't read his face, but she could feel the tension flowing off from his body in waves. She knew that Lorundiil was afraid, even if he hadn't spoken the words she had just overheard, she would know. It showed all over him. He feared her.

Her eyes met his. "I came to tell you... the camp is ready. All we require is the wood for the fire."

Savin spoke, giving him the reprieve that he so needed. "We will be there in a moment... here." Handing her the wood he held, without another word, she turned and left them. 

Lorundiil's head fell back and he stared into the sky in frustration. This was exactly why he'd wanted to wait to have this conversation! Now she knew everything, and he didn't know what to do!

Savin took him by the shoulders and turned him so they were facing one another. He spoke low and clear to him, knowing that she could probably still hear them. "Look, I know that so far she has helped us all. If her intentions were that grim, she could have turned us in, or killed us and then left on her own. That doesn't mean that her reason for being here is a good one. Not if she was trained by them to be sent back here."

"Then you... you believe me?"

The roll of Savin's eyes, gave him the answer he was looking for. "I've seen you fight, Lorundiil. I know you're quite capable. But I also can tell that you are young and inexperienced in the ways of the real world. You're in a foreign place, and with everything that's going on, I understand your fear. This also tells me that I have nothing to worry about where you are concerned though. But her? That's another thing entirely. I've also seen _her_ fight. And I've spent enough time around her people to know how deadly they can be. If she lived in the wilds, _then_ was trained by them? Who know's what she's capable of? I am in agreement with you, that her purpose is probably not a good one. So you need to watch yourself Lorundiil."

He swallowed so loudly that he knew just from the expression on the Imperial's face, that he heard it as well. He felt as sickly as he knew he probably looked. "Great! Now I have to sleep with my eyes open! Is that something _you_ can teach me? Because I haven't had the luxury of learning that one yet!"

Half forcing a smile, he shook his head. "You won't have to learn it, because you're going to confront her."

 _"What?!"_ Sweat sprang up on his forehead, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. 

"You heard me. After evening meal, and everyone else is in the tent, you two are going to have a talk and you're going to come clean. Tell her that you know she heard us speaking! Tell her, that you do not intend to live in fear of her motives!"

"Well... now I feel much better! Thank you, Savin! for your wonderful advice!"

A grin curved the Imperial's lips upward, as his strong hand at Lorundiil's back pushed him forward toward the camp. His sarcasm wasn't lost.

**

The whole rest of that night had gone quietly. Though there wasn't much conversation, contrary to what had just transpired, there wasn't the unbearable tension between the three of them she thought there would be when they returned to camp. Everyone was tired and eager to retreat to the tent and their warm bedrolls. So evening meal was spent in quiet. 

They would be staying awake in shifts. Sunnabe and Lorundiil, both agreed that since he'd never been there, it was best to have him with someone that knew the land. And being that they had started their journey together, them being paired was sensible.

Savin conveniently took the last shift and headed into the tent with the Bosmer family to sleep, not missing the irritated glance he'd been given by his new friend.

Keeping the stones around the fire high, they let it die down some. The night wasn't too cold, even if it was kept down to just the embers, tossing in some small twigs here and there.

Lorundiil uncorked a bottle of wine he'd pulled from their gear and filled her tankard, then his. Again, she smiled at him, shaking her head. "You serve me, and yet I am here to serve you."

Unable to help the grin that now pulled at his own face, he welcomed the feel of it. "It is out of propriety that I do so. My father would berate me endlessly if he found that I had made you, or any female serve me first." 

Her grin widened, showing her bright white teeth. "So... it is only that I am a female, that you serve me first. It does not matter that you are my Master?"

By the Gods, he hated that term! But he thought about her statement, and her question. "No. It is not simply that you are female. I may pour the wine of any that were with me before serving myself. It is only courtesy."

She sipped on her wine, grinning behind the tankard. "Then, you would fill Savin's cup before your own, as well as Anorthil's?"

He smiled down into the wine, knowing that she was baiting him. "I may here and there. But if I were to constantly be filling another male's cups, they may think me daft. Or perhaps that I had an ulterior motive."

They laughed, sipping on their wine. The mood had been lifted, and he silently thanked Au-riel... and the wine.

After a few moments of silence, they both began to speak at the same time, interrupting one another. Letting out a sigh, he motioned for her to speak. "Please... "

Sunnabe licked her lips, fidgeting with the cup in her hands. "I vowed to your Mother and your Ata, that I would protect your life with my own." She looked up to him, their eyes meeting. She nodded, and he could see the pain still apparent in her eyes. "And that is what I will do, Lorundiil. I will risk my own life, so that you are able to see them once again."

His heart hurt at the remembrance of not only his last moments with them, but his Mother's words to Sunnabe. More than that, what she had just spoken lifted some of the previous fears from his mind. At least now he didn't have to worry over having to tell her that if she felt the need to end his life, after hearing what he'd said to Savin, that he would prefer she do it now, rather than putting a knife to his throat while he slept. 

Just slightly, he turned to her on the stump he sat upon, thinking about how he felt and the appropriate response. He was sick of worrying over what she would think of him if he stated his true feelings. He wanted her to see the real Mer that he was, and not some version that he was attempting to show her, or attempting to show himself even! Yes, he had pride, and no, he did not want to be seen as a coward. But the truth was, that no matter what he was capable of, he was still a very inexperienced Mer! And yes, he was afraid. He needed her. That was fact.

"What you vowed to my parents means more to me, and to them, than you will ever know Sunnabe."

She stared down into her cup, listening as he spoke. 

Draining his cup, he was ready. "I will hold true to what I said to you that first day aboard the ship. I want us to trust one another. I would like us to be friends. And to accomplish that, there can be naught that we withhold from one another."

Staring her in the eye, he spoke his true feelings. "I have never been, nor do I ever care to be, anyone's Master. The thought of owning another being, I find horrendous." He tilted his head, giving her a very astonished look. "I find the fact that you were taken from here and given over to my Uncle, horrendous."

Sunnabe's mouth dropped and her eyes grew wide. But before she could speak in his Uncle's favor, he raised his hands up to her. "I know that you care for Nelanare, and I would never try to take those feelings from you. I would never try to hurt you, Sunnabe. I know that in many ways, he may have given you great aid in accomplishing all that you have. And perhaps he has even changed the path your life would have taken forever. But, I do not feel you should have ever been taken, period."

She remained silent as he filled their cups once again, thinking over all that he had said. It was true, she would love Nelanare always. He had given her a great many things that she would never be able to repay him for. But the fact did remain, that had she been left alone to begin with... if her parents had been left alone, they would have had a chance at a life together. Perhaps one day even making the journey back to see her homeland once again.

She didn't want to regret being with him. Learning from him. Loving him. But were it not for the ones that had taken her parent's lives, none of what had happened would be. This revelation... his admission, it made her need for vengeance all that much greater.

He took a sip, then looked at her. "I need to know Sunnabe. What did my Uncle train you for? What was his purpose in doing all that he did, then only to send you back from whence you came?"

Sitting up proud, she raised her chin. Not in defiance, but pride. "I do not truly know why I was taken from here. But I know that he trained me so I would know _all_ of my true worth. All of my true capabilities as a Bosmer. He knew that this was stolen from me by those that killed my parents." 

He watched her closely. Watched how her eyes darkened at the evident memory. 

She swallowed the last of her wine, setting down her empty cup. "On the ship, you asked me if I knew who had killed my parents. I didn't tell you everything then, and I still won't. It is far too painful for me. But, I know that what you say is true. We need to be open and honest if we are to truly aid one another."

She smiled at him. Not like before, but at least he could tell that it was an honest smile. "I do want to be friends with you, and I am honored that you would want me as such." 

Taking in a deep breath, she readied herself for his reaction to what she was about to tell him. "Two Thalmor Justiciars killed my parents. One of whom, captured me and brought me to your land."

She watched his expression as it changed to one of shock, then anger. His hands gripping the edges of the stump he sat on in attempt to simply occupy themselves, possibly to keep himself quiet while she spoke. "I know for a fact, who one of them is. The other one, I do not know. But I do know, however, that they are both here. Right now."

His mind flew back to the day they'd docked in Cyrodiil. How she had changed as she looked through the crowds. It was like she had changed into someone... something, that he had never seen before. His mouth dropped open as the revelation of what she planned to do struck him hard! "You... you plan to find them, don't you?! You are planning to take revenge! Nelanare knows this?!" 

He jumped to his feet, staring down at her with his eyes wide. "Tell me, Sunnabe! Because if it is so, then what you are planning is not only suicide! But could... " He looked around crazily, his arms waving about! "This could have a trickle down effect that you can't even comprehend! We could all be killed! If they link me to this, my family could be killed! Any that are seen with you, or know you, could become targets!"

She stood, and remaining completely calm, she looked up at him. "I can fix it so they won't. And yes, Nelanare not only knows, but gave me his explicit approval. Those that will fall will not be missed, Lorundiil."

He gaped at her in pure astonishment!

She sat back down, picking up the bottle to refill their cups. After a moment, he sat down as well, holding his head in his hands.

"This is why I was reluctant to tell you before. I was afraid that you would try to stop me."

Gladly taking his cup from her, he downed it. "You are right. I think it is madness... " just for a moment, his eyes met her's. "but I do understand your need for recompense. And, I probably could not stop you even if I wanted to. But know that I am not in favor of it. I am in fear of the consequences."

He looked up at the night sky, listening to wolves off in the distance as they called to one another. "You heard me speaking to Savin. No doubt, you know that I am trying to avoid fighting in this war, Sunnabe. Hence the reason why I left." Their eyes locked. "For some reason, Nelanare got his superiors to allow my leaving, as long as I was accompanied by you. Why is that? Do you know?"

She pulled her own travel documents from a sewn in pocket within her leathers. Looking them over again, she held the parchment out to him. "I know what is on this. Your true reasons are your own... I only know mine. I will not try to keep you from what you desire, as long as you extend me the same courtesy."

He took the parchments, and for a moment they just stared at each other. "My purpose is to avenge my parents, and to keep _all_ Mer safe. That includes you and yours, Lorundiil." 

Breaking eye contact with her, he stared into the fire. His hands loosely holding onto the phony documents. 

He honestly didn't know if he felt any better or not. And while it would be a grand notion, that perhaps Nelanare had simply decided to set her free to exact her revenge, doing him and his parents a favor in the process, he doubted it to be true.

Everything about this screamed to him that there was way more going on behind the picture they saw. More than what they would possibly ever realize.

His Uncle played with people's lives, much like the Daedra did. Every little thing that Mer had done over the years had affected multitudes! 

They were pawns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 02/19/18 - getting ready to post the next one hopefully by tomorrow or wed. Also, one for Mutt.
> 
> Please don't get down on my Dragonborn. I try to put myself in his boots and then I get it. If I were suddenly thrust into that world, no matter how much I like to think _Fuck Yeah!,_ I'd more than likely be shitting myself. There's no malice, I promise. Also, when Savin said he's seen them both fight, I presume everyone realizes that they had to deal with creatures of one form or another during the journey there.


	41. Us and Them - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third soldier paced in front of them, his eyes wild! His face was covered in blood, and he looked as though he were on the verge of hysterics. He leaned into the Imperial's face and screamed! "Where's your godsdamned archer?!"
> 
> The man turned and gaped at the General. Tears ran down his face, streaking through the sweat and blood that covered him. He pointed toward them with his sword, "They killed them all! My brother's out there! _He's dead!!"_
> 
> A sob tore free from his throat as he reached down, taking a handful of the Imperial's robes, his sword pointing into his chest! "They have an archer!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, simply because the prologue to the game is so utterly convoluted, I am skipping the Darkwater Crossing situation. Not saying it didn't happen, just that my characters won't be involved in that particular event. I know! I know! but no matter how I try to force this to make sense, it just doesn't. Pale Pass, which is over by Falkreath, is literally supposed to be blocked from avalanche, and yet that's the direction you're heading _from_ in the cart on your way to Helgen. (I'm not using the new Bruma Mod either) And yet, Ulfric was supposedly ambushed while heading _into_ Darkwater Crossing. Which is in the middle of Eastmarch, and not only in the complete opposite direction, but a pretty long way from the Skyrim border. So here's my version.

Us and them  
And after all, we're just ordinary men.  
Me and you  
God only knows, it's not what we would choose to do.  
Forward! he cried from the rear, and the front rank died  
And the General sat  
And the lines on the map moved from side to side.

**

Pain ran rampant through her as she had lain down that night. Pain and confusion. 

Even though they had ended the conversation on a good note, there was still evident tension between them. On his side, it was more than likely the fact that he now knew what she planned to do, and feared it. He would worry over when and where. Worry over every Thalmor they saw, fighting panic over what she planned to do. Worry over the consequences once she had done it.

For her, it was numerous things. He was not the honorable Mer that she thought he was... that the parchment stated he was. He was not an envoy, attempting to aid relations between their people. For _him,_ there was no mission. He was simply running, and his family had paid dearly for him to do it. He was running from his people and his responsibilities to them. 

That bothered her. The fact that the family that had lain around her sleeping, was running from the Thalmor bothered her. She was torn.

They were her people, but _he,_ was her love. He was her savior. He had changed her from the animal she had once been, to what she was now. He had given her knowledge. A strength and a power that she would have never known! If it weren't for him, she would still be in that forest, unable to speak. Afraid to speak. 

During the years she was with him, he'd told her over and over, that Estormo and the other had gone rogue. That they'd had no right to hurt her people. But yet, why were so many running? Why had her own settlement fled? She knew deep in her heart, that her Ata would have never taken them from their homeland were it not that he feared for their safety. 

Things that she had never questioned before went round and round in her mind. Why had they been looking for her? Why had she been brought to Nelanare, under the strictest of orders to remain unspoiled? The words Estormo had spoken to her as she had lay paralyzed crept in from the deepest parts of her memory. The words his counterpart had spoken, over the days that they had made their journey to the Isles. 

Why hadn't Nelanare ever told her who the other was? He _knew_ who he was. There was a reason he hadn't told her. A reason. 

She would get to Estormo first. He was weak. He had no power of his own. That had been made clear when he was forced to be a training tool for her. She had seen him soil himself out of fear. She had seen his tears, as they had slid town his terror filled face. She would get to him, and she would force him to speak, no matter how long it took. All would be revealed to her in the end.

The more she thought on it, the more it terrified her. There was a reason he hadn't told her, yet she had to know. She deserved the truth, even if she couldn't live with it.

Finally willing herself to try and sleep, she had turned toward the wall of the tent, so that if any of the Mer surrounding her awoke they would not see her tears. Silently, they ran across the bridge of her nose and down into the hair at her temple. She loved him, and that would never, ever change. She would hold onto that. She had to.

**

They kept to the forest along side the roadway to stay out of sight as much as possible. The ingrained need to stay hidden had come back to her full force. Being in the road wasn't safe. It was foolhardy to be so out in the open, it made her feel like they were being watched. 

Leading the horse that now carried the twin girls, along with Maedon so their mother could stretch her legs and walk alongside her mate, her eyes constantly went to Lorundiil. 

He and Savin walked up ahead of them. Not speaking, just looking about. Periodically one of them would bend over to pick a flower blossom, or some other form of ingredient they could possibly use. Lorundiil was in awe of all the different types of foliage here, eyeing everything with the same curiosity and excitement that the children were now beginning to show. 

She couldn't tease him over it, nor them. If anything, she found it endearing. She, herself, had once acted the same after all, and it was nice to see something other than remorse on all their faces. Anorthil and Lorlwen, seeing this in their young brightened their moods, allowing them to possibly see the situation in a bit of a different light.

She thought again of what Lorundiil had spoken that first night, before Baenir had left them. How he'd said that he should come with them. _'Please, come with us. There is nothing stopping you, and we are stronger in numbers. You could settle there with us!'_

With them all together, there was hope. They could make it. They could have a good life. Live here, taking advantage of all the wilderness and life around them, they could still live as closely to their roots as possible. Teaching the children the customs of their people. The only difference being that they would have to use wood. Her parents had gotten past it, and so had she.

Every day after their talk, she had made an extreme amount of effort to not only push aside the nagging fears and emotions that waged war within her, but to be open and friendly with Lorundiil. 

Being friendly with him was easy... clearing her mind, was not. Every time she looked at him, she remembered his words to her. _'I have never been, nor do I ever care to be, anyone's Master.'_

The words echoed in her mind. The way his face looked when he'd said them, like he was disgusted. _'I find the fact that you were taken from here, and given over to my Uncle, horrendous.'_

Just thinking of what he'd said, then what she'd felt, knowing that he was running. How could she feel him not honorable? Giving her head a shake, she fought to dispel the intrusive thoughts. She had to stay focused. If she didn't, they could all pay the price.

Savin suddenly stopped, grabbing onto Lorundiil's robes, yanking him down to the ground! Raising his arm slightly, he made a motion with his hand for them all to get down. Sunnabe turned and looked at children, putting a finger to her lips. Very quietly, they all three climbed down and went to their Mother's and Ata's side.

The horses were left where they were, alone, while they all crouched low to the ground, looking through the trees toward the roadway. The sound of horses... many horses and wagons, getting louder and louder on the stone pathway. 

**

Ralof took a deep breath in through his nose and leaned back, his eyes taking in the forest around them as the carriage moved along. The feeling of loss and defeat fought to cripple him. To rob him of everything good his last few minutes of life could possibly give.

Along the way, he had looked at Ulfric only sparingly, knowing the man was riddled with his own inner turmoil. Staring at him would only serve in worsening how he already felt, and he would never do anything to dishonor him. Nor would he look upon him with notable sympathy in his eyes. 

The man had done what he thought was right by their people. He'd fought honorably. And regardless of the fact that he would die on his knees before his enemy, at the feet of an Imperial headsman, he would die honorably. He would die for his people, knowing that he'd done all he could.

He didn't want Ulfric to die. He, himself... he wasn't ready to die. But by Oblivion, he wouldn't cry and whine, like the horse thief next to him had done as soon as they'd gotten close to Falkreath Hold either. He would face his death with some courage.

Now it was those that would be left behind that he truly feared for. With Ulfric gone, their people stood no chance of freedom. All would be lost.

The sound of a shrill whistle stopped their procession. All the Imperials on horseback perked up, raising up their hands at the rest to make sure all were halted and silent. 

From the moment they'd been captured and the General decided to move them through to Helgen instead of crossing into Cyrodiil, they'd had riders and scouts moving in the forests that surrounded each side of the roadway, looking for any danger that may hamper their progress. Looking for more Stormcloaks that would perhaps try to rescue Ulfric from their clutches. 

Unbeknownst to them, there would be none. Their entire party had been captured.

Everyone in the cart perked up, looking into the trees around them. Lokir swallowed, his frightened face turning toward him once again in question. Even as much as he'd been annoyed by his constant fretting, he would answer. "It's probably just some bandits."

Like it mattered what was out in the woods, when they were all about to meet their demise on the block.

Raising his hand for Lokir to shut it, he strained to hear over his pounding heart. Strained to hear over the sound of footfalls on the forest floor. A high-pitched _whir_ sound, tickled his ears, making his heartbeat speed up. Arrows! The sound of arrows flying, and the sickening _thunk_ they made when they'd hit something that would give way to them. Flesh and bone.

Yelling burst out through the forest, then screams. Screams of their men. Soldiers jumped off their horses, leaving them riderless in the roadways as they armed their weapons and ran into the trees. Small groups surrounded them with bows drawn and swords pulled, making sure everyone stayed put. 

Ralof turned, placing his arm up onto the backboard to give himself better leverage as he craned his neck and strained to see through the trees. There was movement all over the place. The browns and silvers of the Imperial's armor, then something else. His eyes caught burgundy... purples and blues. The red of blood.

**

The Imperial was launched off hit feet, flying backwards, her arrow lodged firmly in his throat! The next arrow was nocked and already flying. Her mind didn't have to tell her what to do. She didn't have to think about it... it was instinct. Pure and true. She would kill every last one of these men.

Savin held his blade in one hand while the other was wide open, enshrouded with the sparkling, cold glimmer of frost. Another soldier approached Lorundiil from behind. Before he could reach him, an arrow was seated in the base of his spine, shattering it. The man screamed, crumpling to the ground in a heap. 

Running her arm across her eyes to wipe the blood splatter away so she could see, Lorundiil had turned. The head of an Imperial was held firmly between his hands. The man's head was being cooked. Blue sparks, ran through his limp body making it jerk and shudder violently before he was finally dropped. 

There was no way to dispatch of those that had fallen upon them quietly. They'd been so fixed on the sounds coming from the roadway, that they hadn't all been able to hide before being seen by the Imperials that had evidently been scouring the forest... for whatever reason. All that mattered was that _these_ men die. They'd seen the children and their parents, they couldn't be set free.

Now there was the sound of many, running toward them. The noises of their comrades dying, sending them forth. She nocked another arrow, listening... trying to count them. Her last words to Lorlwen and Anorthil, ringing out in her mind. _'Stay hidden... stay silent!'_

They would be safe. She would make sure of it.

**

The static, crackling sound of lightning filled the air. Ralof's eyes met Ulfric's. They knew what that sound was from. Mages. The screaming stopped, and the gut churning smell of burnt flesh and hair wafted to them through the woods. 

General Tullius' voice sounded off from the front as his horse trotted back to them, their carriage being the last in line, so Ulfric could be better watched. Climbing down from his horse, he pulled the giant Nord that stood next to him closer to speak privately. 

"Stop!! Stop fighting! They'll kill you!!"

It was the voice of an Imperial... the accent of one. Tullius pulled his sword as the sound of walking grew closer to them. Two males in mage's robes, hands held in the air, were being walked out of the woods and into the roadway. And of the ten men that had gone in, only three remained, and _they_ looked like they'd been to Oblivion and back. The mages were both covered in blood splatter, along with the Imperials that held them. 

Tullius walked closer, taking them both in. The two soldiers holding them, ripped back their hoods. An Imperial, his tan skin marked with ritual paint. Long black hair, tied back at his neck. The other one, an Atmer, and by the looks of it, very young. The two men behind them kicked the backs of their legs, dropping them down to their knees. 

The third soldier paced in front of them, his eyes wild! His face was covered in blood, and he looked as though he were on the verge of hysterics. He leaned into the Imperial's face and screamed! "Where's your godsdamned archer?!" 

The man turned and gaped at the General. Tears ran down his face, streaking through the sweat and blood that covered him. He pointed toward them with his sword, "They killed them all! My brother's out there! _He's dead!!"_

A sob tore free from his throat as he reached down, taking a handful of the Imperial's robes, his sword pointing into his chest! "They have an archer!" 

Ralof's bound hands, gripped the wooden plank behind him so hard it groaned. He could only imagine that what was going through Ulfric's mind, mirrored his own. _The Imperial is going to off both of the prisoners if the General doesn't make a move soon._

He was screaming now. Letting loose of the Imperial's robes, he pulled the helmet from his head and threw it to the ground! _"Where's the fucking archer?!" You fucking traitor!! Fucking traitor!!_

Leaning down right into Savin's face, he spit! Savin closed his eyes for a moment as he was hit by the warm fluid, clenching his teeth as it ran down his skin. 

His sword raised up to strike, and right before his arm could lower, the blade was taken from his hand. He turned. The giant Nord Tullius had been speaking with, stood before him. The sword lay on the ground. Two large hands took him by the shoulders, "Let's go and recover your brother... shall we?"

Men and women filed into the trees, taking horses with them. Ralof watched as Hadvar followed them in, the stricken soldier walking next to him. They'd grown up together, he and Hadvar. Small town, both, prominent families. Well, as prominent as someone could be in Riverwood. If owning and running a mill and being a smithy, made you that.

He wasn't shocked when Hadvar stayed with the Empire's side of things. He was loyal to a fault. Didn't have it in him to rebel against anything or anyone. He was a good man. There were a lot of good men, fighting against good men now. Which made him wonder about the Imperial, that was on his knees next to the Altmer.

Tullius walked in closer to the prisoners, very obviously interested in the Imperial. He didn't say anything, just lowered his hand to the younger man's chin and raised his head back so he could see him better. "Well, I don't believe it... Savin Acculus."

Tullius stepped back, his arms now crossed over his chest. His face was a mixture of disgust and confusion. He motioned to the soldier holding him to get him to his feet. "He'll be coming with us, but not in the cart." 

His silver-haired head, shook back and forth slowly as he berated the young Imperial. "So this is what it's come to? Killing your own? Your own people?! Your father fears you're dead! Somewhere still in Cyrodiil! Your family is searching for you Sa- " 

Tullius pushed him forward, toward a now abandoned horse. "This is going to kill your father, Savin... you kno- "

"They're not my people!" Savin attempted to turn to him, just to be shoved forward harder. The soldier's sword now raised. "You're not my people anymore! Not now! Now that you've turned your backs what we've always stood for!!"

Ralof turned to Ulfric. For just a moment, they stared at each other. The young Imperial was now sitting astride a horse, with the soldier behind him. Tullius continued to ignore every word, but the bound men and women in the carts didn't. They listened. 

Savin looked at all of them... looked at Ulfric, sitting there with his mouth gagged and his hands tied. Now, he spoke to them. He yelled!

"They've turned their backs on all of us!! Their bellies are fat on the Thalmor's gold! They've been paid to roll over for them! And _your rights! OUR RIGHTS!!_ were the cost!!" 

The soldier behind him yelled into the back of his head to shut up! Savin just kept on. Tullius stood there watching him, his tan face growing a deeper red by the second. "It's not just the Nords, Ulfric!"

Ulfric turned in the cart so he could face him. The soldiers standing watch over their carriage moved in closer. "The Thalmor are driving people out of their own lands! Altmer, Bosmer, they have no place to go where they can be free! No one is safe!" 

Savin's hazel eyes, now locked onto the General's! _THE EMPIRE HAS FUCKED US ALL!!!"_

Soldiers, pulling horses behind them, began to come out of the forest. Their dead were slung across them, two and three to a horse. Every single man they'd had out there keeping watch had been killed. Along with seven of those that had gone in after them.

Hadvar, now walking back to his own mount, pulled out a list from his saddlebags and began writing. Evidently marking off their dead.

Tullius, trying to play down the scene the young Imperial had made, looked between Savin and the Altmer. "So who's this? He's evidently with you. Running from the Thalmor, perhaps? A traitor, like you?"

Finally, the Elf spoke. His eyes keeping level with the ground before him. "I have papers. If your men had bothered to speak with us, _before_ attacking, they would have known that! I have a right to be here!"

"Where are these papers?" Tullius walked over to him. 

"In my robes. If your man will unhand me, I will get them for you."

Completely disregarding the words he'd said, Tullius reached inside of his robes, feeling around until he found them. Watching as the Mer's eyebrows gathered up in contempt, he pulled the thick parchment out of the envelope that had contained it. Looking briefly at the broken Dominion seal, he silently read. 

All eyes were on him as he looked it over. His eyes narrowed, looking at the Altmer, then back to what he held. "This is news to me... but, then again I don't have the time to keep track of every one of the Dominion's people." 

Handing the papers over to Hadvar, he motioned for the soldiers to get him to his feet. "What matters to me, is that you are in the company of traitor. You assisted him in killing our soldiers. It's also very obvious, from the dead counted here, that you had an archer with you. Where is your archer?"

Two horses were led out. No dead lay upon them. One, loaded down with supplies, the other was covered in Elven blankets. The soldier leading them stopped next to Hadvar. In his hands he held a child's doll that from the looks of it, was made from bone, animal skins and fur. 

"These were found amidst the fallen. They evidently belong to this Mer and the Imperial... but, _this,"_ he held up the doll, "was in one of the saddlebags. There may be more to their party that we don't know of yet."

The telltale sound of gut stretching from behind Ulfric's cart silenced them. Seconds later, a voice, laced in strong Aldmeris accent spoke out from behind them. "Lower your weapons, or I'll run your leader through."

Tullius froze. Lorundiil watched the beads of sweat as they formed on the Imperial's face. Slowly, he moved his hands away from his sides, spreading his fingers wide to show he had nothing in them. His voice, carefully calling out to his soldiers. "Do as she says. Lower your weapons, but do _not_ release anyone!"

All heads were turned in her direction, watching as she made her way through the trees and into the pathway from behind the carriage. Ralof's eyes met his King's, a glimmer of hope shining brightly in them, only to be met by the slow shake of Ulfric's head. The man already knew of what had taken up residence in his subordinate's mind and there was no chance that it would work.

Regardless of the number that the new prisoners had dispatched for them, there were still way too many for them to deal with and be able to get away intact. It was over.

For just a moment, Ralof's eyes dropped, staring down at his feet. Ulfric felt his discouragement... his anger. His helplessness. And if he hadn't been bound, he would have taken him by the shoulder to give him comfort. To tell him that he was proud. Soon though, they would be in Sovngarde, and he could tell him then over a tankard of warm mead.

Ralof's despair was forgotten. His eyes pulled up from his feet to watch her. His vision, now filled with the tiny Bosmer that crept by their carriage. Just taking her in... just the sight of her, caused the hair on his arms to stand at attention. The aura that the small Mer gave off was immense. 

Blood splatter covered her face, neck and chest, mingling in with her sweat. The greens and browns of the leathers she wore, made her blend in perfectly with the forest. And she was silent. 

She literally made no noise as she passed by them. So low to the ground, that it almost seemed that she was crawling. A bone bow was held in her hand, the gut, stretched to max. And what appeared to be a bone arrow, was nocked and drawn, aimed right at Tullius' head.

She stopped right behind him, and left her crouched position to stand upright. This was the only way. She couldn't leave him in their hands, and although Savin wasn't her responsibility, she wanted him alive. "I want the Altmer and the Imperial handed over to me, then, we will leave you to do as you were. No more blood needs to be spilled."

Lorundiil stared into the General's eyes as he answered. There was no give in them whatsoever. Seeing that it was painfully obvious that he would not be giving her what she wanted.

"You've killed my men. You've interfered with Imperial business."

What she wanted to do, was cut Lorundiil free, but lowering her bow was unwise. The man she was aiming at wasn't going to work with her, she could feel it... hear it in his voice. She cut him off. "Your men attacked us without provocation! If you take him, you are interfering with Dominion business. You've seen his papers, now, let him loose!"

The General's eyes left his and moved to the man that was standing behind him. Immediately, he felt a dagger at his throat.

"If you don't lower that bow, my soldier will cut his throat. You may kill me, but _he_ will be dead! He will be dead, and my men will still carry on! You will be taken and killed, right along with the scum that now sits in those carts!"

Sunnabe looked at Lorundiil, their eyes meeting. He could see it in them. She was weighing her options. The soldiers around them slowly raised their weapons. This was the only way. The only way that she could save him. Save him, and live herself, to do what she must. 

She lowered her bow, dropping it to the ground. Her eyes never left his.

Soldiers moved in around her. Lorundiil was hauled to his feet and led to the carriage closest to them. She could see the fear, apparent in his green eyes. He was terrified, but he wouldn't break down, not in front of these men and women. Not in front of Savin, or her. 

She knew who sat in that cart. She wouldn't look at him... she refused. If they had _him_ , then she knew where they were going. It was the block that awaited them all. Helgen was just some miles up ahead.

The General turned to her. He was a small man, just a few inches above her own height. All the ones that served him, towered over him. The man that had cried out, while she had watched from the cover of trees, handed him a length of leather to bind her with and smiled as her hands were brought together. Smooth, manicured fingers, tied them. 

She refused to give up. This was not defeat. A moment would come when they were not surrounded, blades pointed at their throats. A moment would come when they were distracted, and that's when she would strike.

Her hands now firmly bound, the grieving man grabbed her roughly by the back of her hair. His fingers dug into her braids sharply as she was pushed toward the cart where Lorundiil was now seated. Seated right next to _him._

Releasing the hold he'd had on her hair, the man grabbed her viciously by the shoulder and threw her against the rear edge of the cart, turning her around to face him!

Even with all the soldiers taking their places back in line; climbing back onto their horses and righting their gear to proceed, herself and this man, were the center of attention. They all watched what he was doing. They watched him handle her and did nothing to stop it. She had killed their people. 

It mattered very little, to her. Let them have their show. She gave them their chance, and they'd thrown it away.

His hand fisted up in the leather at her chest. He glared down at her. Pain and rage consumed him. He wanted to cry... he wanted to scream. She could feel it coming off from him, he wanted to tear her apart.

She smiled, showing her teeth at him as he pushed her backwards, the wood and iron digging into her back. She could see Ulfric's boots, and the bare feet of the one across from him. She hadn't ever been one to poke the bear... but now, she just couldn't resist. 

She wanted to make them pay. He was suffering... and she could end it for him. She would speak to him, what she had heard so many times over the years here, when bandits had fallen upon Mer and killed them.

"Which one was your brother? I can never tell humans apart."

His entire body began to shake! His skin crawled and twitched as though something were underneath it and fighting to get out. His face twisted up into a mask of pure hate. He screamed out, his hand reaching for his sword! 

The split second that he tilted his head back to scream, her eyes zeroed in. Salt, blood and sweat, made her taste buds constrict as she bit down onto his throat. Her face nestled into his neck, as if they were lovers and she longed for a taste of him. 

Blood, hot, and filled with the stench of copper, flowed down over her cheeks and neck. His scream was cut short. Now the only sound he made was that of a mewling goat that was being taken down by a sabre. 

Both, now covered in his life blood, his hands and feet giving the slightest of shakes before he went completely limp. Literally his death had taken only seconds. All those around them had stood paralyzed with shock, unable to even move until the Imperial dropped from her maw, landing in a bloody heap at her feet.

She would gladly take the the hilt of the sword that struck against her temple, giving her the solace of darkness for the remainder of their trip. It had been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Us and Them  
> by: Pink Floyd
> 
> Also, just a note here. Some of my straight friends have shown concern that I was moving in the gay direction with my Dragonborn. This is definitely not the case. Granted, I was a little offended, but I get it. That's not the direction I'm taking with this. Also, I've gotten some feedback that putting the focus on some of the new characters, along with my Dragonborn, is taking the main focus off Sunnabe. The main focus of this will _always_ be Sunnabe. All of these characters are integral to the bigger picture. They are all affecting the outcome of things. She may have been trained to be a killer, to be their tool, Nelanare using what happened to her and her parents as a catalyst to move her in the direction that he wants. But there is so much more to Sunnabe than that. Another one coming, will try to have it done by next Monday or so. Mutt being posted by Friday.


	42. Us and Them (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked up at him as if he'd gone insane. One of his boot-clad feet, stomping on the floorboards of the carriage. He was doubled over, his hands over his mouth.
> 
> Ulfric and the others had averted their gaze, as if the crazy that had infected them was contagious and they feared that by being too close they would catch it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, some changes to this scene from the game.

The earth starts to rumble  
World powers fall  
A'warring for the heavens  
A peaceful man stands tall

**

Ralof couldn't take his eyes off from her. If he did, he would have to look at someone else, and right then that wasn't an option. He couldn't contain what he, himself, was feeling. Let alone look someone else in the eye and feign composure. 

From his peripheral, he could see the severe look on Ulfric's face. The Nord had edged away from the Altmer next to him as far as he could get and still keep his arse on the cart bench. He stared down between his feet, brows all drawn together.

Lokir was sitting with his feet all drawn up into the seat with him. His hands were clamped down over his mouth, either in fear that he would cry out or wretch. Tears had streaked down his dirt covered face, leaving trails down his cheeks and neck. His eyes were shut, and when he did dare to open them he would stare over Ulfric's head. Anywhere but at her or the other Mer in the cart with them.

In all his days, he didn't think he'd ever seen something so shocking as what he just had. Sure, he'd seen men die. Men _and_ women. He'd seen them gutted. Seen their limbs severed and heads split. He'd even seen what remained of men after a Werewolf had feasted on them. 

But he'd never seen what she had done. He'd never seen someone rip into another like that. The way she'd held onto him until he'd died. They'd all sat there, watching as the light had left that man's eyes. His hands, grasping and clawing at nothing until they'd gone limp at his sides.

Right then, he swore that if he had another night's sleep coming to him before he met his end, that _this_ was what his mind would grab onto and replay in his dreams. Over and over, he would see it. There was no way that he would ever forget it.

Ralof eyed the Altmer as he bent down and lifted her, propping her up from where they'd thrown her into the cart. Very gently, he sat her back against the backboard so her head rested against his leg. Then, looking around warily, he brought both his hands down to her head, allowing enough healing energy to flow from them to heal the cut on her temple. 

Ulfric, noticing what he was doing, looked away. The only place to lay his eyes where he couldn't see what the Mer was doing, was either at the worthless, bawling thief across from him or at the giant Nord that rode behind them. What was worse? Looking at them, or at her and her keeper? If that's what he was.

Feeling the blonde's eyes upon them, Lorundiil ventured a glance up at him. For the first time since they'd been in the cart together, they made full eye contact. For a moment, they just stared at one another, not saying a word. He could tell just by taking the Nord in... the look on his face, that he had plenty that wanted to come out of his mouth. He would let him speak first, if he chose to do so, and sat back against the wooden beam. 

Letting out a silent breath through his nose, he glanced down at her again. Now came the Nord's voice. "If you heal her... will she not wake?"

Lorundiil weighed his words, looking deep into those sky blue eyes. He was afraid... the Nord was afraid for her to wake. "That is the plan... for her to wake."

Ralof fought to quell the shiver that ran through him. Right then, he was more in fear of these two Mer, than he was facing the headsman. Once again, the hairs on his arms lifted and his guts clenched up. His eyes darted over to Ulfric, then back to the Mer's bright green ones that kept watching him. 

The Mer could sense his fear, he _knew_ it! That thought alone, heightened the torrent of emotion that was wreaking havoc within him. They'd may as well have a gods-be-damned cat in the fucking cart with them, with the way these Mer could know what was in a man's heart! What was in his very soul! It wasn't natural... it just wasn't! 

Ralof swallowed, "And... what will she do, when she wakes?"

He waited, but the Mer said naught. Those green eyes of his just looked at the Imperial sitting in the driver's seat next to where they sat, then looked back to him. A smirk, took over his Elfin face for but a moment, then was gone just as quick. _Did he really want to know what would happen?_

His eyes sought out his King's once again, seeking strength... seeking wisdom. But Ulfric just turned away. It wasn't enough that he was fighting his own inner battles, but now they were thrown in with _them!_ Even if they had taken on and killed their enemies, the Altmer was a Thalmor. 

They'd all seen the papers Tullius had pulled from within his robes. He'd tried to use them to save his ass, and then she'd vouched for him. Which made her no better in their eyes.

He thought it over for a moment, and realized it didn't matter. They were all heading to the block. _All_ of them. He may as well speak his mind. "Dominion doesn't protect her own, I see. If you're in here with us."

That caught Ulfric's attention. His head turned, looking between them. 

Lorundiil thought about it. They were either going to die, or they would be given a chance by the Gods to get away. Either way, they would be seen as the enemy. 

If the Imperials were willing to overlook what he held that granted him rights to travel and be here, to send him to his death... then yes, he was seen as an enemy. _She_ was definitely seen as an enemy, especially after what she'd just done. Did it matter if he spoke the truth? Their lot was thrown in with all that now surrounded them.

Tilting his head away from the Imperial, he spoke as low as possible so the Nord would hear him. "The parchments are worthless... " 

Sunnabe's hand clenching up on his calf stopped him before he could say anything further. He closed his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. Sitting back, he stared at the Nord across from him.

Ulfric's eyes went from the Altmer, back to her. For the first time since she'd killed the Imperial, he really looked at her. Close. The whole front side of her was covered in blood. Beginning from just under her eyes, all the way down her midsection. Streaks and splatter covered the remainder, even up into her hair.

It had begun to dry, portions here and there cracking and flaking off. She looked like something straight out of a Godsforsaken nightmare.

Her eyes were that of a brown, ocher in color. Warm, dark butterscotch. The irises, anyway. The rest... the part that would've been white in a human's eye, was a black/red, in her's. Her small, arched brows were pulled together into a frown. While he looked at her, trying to figure her out... she looked right back at him.

They'd been avoiding one another. She'd been making an effort thus far, trying not to look upon him, just as he'd done with her.

If he could've spoken, he would've asked, _Why is a Bosmer making decisions for a Thalmor? Why is she protecting him? Which one is the Master?_ And there was one. He was sure of it. _But why?_

 _And why were they in league with a rogue Imperial that had gone traitor?_ A rogue Imperial that was evidently born of royal stock. That much was fact. For if he hadn't been, Tullius would've had him gutted right then and there. He wouldn't have been saved. He sure as hell wouldn't be riding on a fucking horse, while the rest of them were bound in the carts!

He thought about the Altmer's words. _'The parchments are worthless... '_ Worthless. _Why? Why were they worthless? Was he a Thalmor?_ None of it made any sense.

One thing he _did_ know... she was dangerous. That's why _she_ was chained to the cart by the neck. Chained. Not bound at the wrists, like the rest of them.

He didn't want to have hope at this point. To have hope now would be folly. Ulfric looked away. Well... he'd wanted her awake. Now what?

Lorundiil watched Ulfric take her in, knowing just by the Nord's face, what was going on in his mind. He thought over all that his father had said to him before they'd departed from his homeland. All that he'd warned him about, and all his fears. 

All the money that they'd spent to try and keep him safe. Everything they'd all gone through. And now, here he was. Not even an entire week in Skyrim, and he was bound, sitting beside Ulfric Stormcloak on his way to see the headsman. 

Fifty thousand gold, so he could be beheaded by the Thalmor's allies. Or better said by Savin last night as they'd all sat around the fire. _The Thalmor's whore._ They'd been paid to put out. Bent over, bare-assed and ready. 

He took in her face, all the blood that covered her and the chain around her neck. The incredibly pissed off look that was on her face, and all he could do was laugh. It all suddenly seemed so hysterically funny.

Bringing up his bound hands, he attempted to cover his mouth. It wasn't going to work. His stomach clenched as he doubled over, peals of laughter ringing out. His eyes watered and tears ran down his face.

She looked up at him as if he'd gone insane. One of his boot-clad feet, stomping on the floorboards of the carriage. He was doubled over, his hands over his mouth. Ulfric and the others had averted their gaze, as if the crazy that had infected them was contagious and they feared that by being too close they would catch it.

The Imperial driving their cart yelled out, "Shut up back there!"

That was all it took. She began to laugh. Lorundiil glanced up at her, his face pulled into the biggest grin she thought she'd ever seen. White teeth gleaming. He was near on the floorboards with her now. 

The more she smiled, the tighter the drying blood became on her face. It was beginning to be uncomfortable. Right then, it didn't matter. 

They'd both laughed until the gates of Helgen came into view, then it had died down. The somberness that had once overtaken the cart and everyone in it, began to creep back in. 

She hadn't laughed in so long that she could even remember. Not like this. There had been plenty of happy times over the years, even before Nelanare, she had smiled. Sparingly, but it had happened. And she had smiled at _him_. 

But none like this. She knew what this was. It was their body's and their mind's way of relieving stress, and all the negative things that sapped their strength and happiness from them. Telling them that laughter was what it needed to release them from their pain and fear. Pure and natural... better than any drug.

She would take the respite that her body granted her. It was coming just in time.

The gates were opened, and they rode through. Getting up onto her knees, she peered past the blonde Nord so she could see. Tullius sat astride his horse, and he was talking with a female Thalmor. Her soldiers stood on the ground next to her mount. They both turned as he pointed to their particular carriage, and she shook her head. 

Just briefly, their eyes met. They both knew what had just happened. It was obvious. His documents were false. Even though they'd been signed by all those that mattered to get them here, _he_ was nothing. Nothing to them. No more than a cowardice traitor. And he would be handled as such. 

Voices raised. Getting farther away from them as they rode into the town, no one could hear the words being spoken, but all could tell there was an argument taking place.

She turned to Lorundiil. All the laughter had left his eyes. They were nearing the point of stopping. She grasped his hands with hers, leaning in to speak to him. "I am sorry that I ever doubted you. You fought bravely. All the way here, you did."

She wouldn't say anything to alert the soldier that was within earshot of them. But she would tell him what she must. She leaned in, her blood-coated lips brushing against his ear, she whispered. "You have earned your freedom, Lorundiil. We will not let your family down... " Her eyes met his as she pulled away from him. "... will we."

It wasn't a question. The grip they had on each other tightened just before it was released. He swallowed, then nodded to her. He had faith in her... he was even silently praying to Au-riel for a way out of this. What he needed, though, was faith in himself. 

The cart pulled up before a great stone wall, stopping next to the others.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!"

Lokir was near bawling, looking everywhere for help that wouldn't be coming. "Why are we stopping?"

Lorundiil stood, facing the Nord. He respected the man, even if he didn't know him. If there was any fear there, he definitely wasn't showing it. 

Ralof turned away, looking down at the smaller, dark haired man in rags. "Why do you think? End of the line." Giving him a slight shove, "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

He climbed down after the Nord, and one of the Imperials got up into the cart to unlock Sunnabe.

Everything began to happen at once, and all he could do to calm himself was take in a deep breath. The thief was yelling, "No! Wait! We're not with you! You have to tell them!! This is a mistake!!"

The giant Nord that had taken his papers was standing before them all, marking each man and woman off from a list as if they were cattle. The small Imperial woman standing next to him, had to have the biggest chip on her shoulder he think he'd ever seen. _How could someone be that angry? That hateful?_ Every time she opened her mouth, it just got worse and worse. 

Ralof opened his mouth next to him, telling the thief to have some courage. _That may be an impossible feat. Did thieves go somewhere different than the Nords when they died? He thought he knew where he would go... perhaps this wouldn't be so bad._

Ulfric was called. The man walked forward, moving calmly around them to stand in front of Tullius. Lorundiil listened as the Nord said goodbye to his King. 

Everything around him began to take on a far away quality. Like he was hearing and seeing through water. The bass drum of his heartbeat picked up. 

Lokir screamed... something about rights and took off running! Archers took aim. Lorundiil exhaled, looking away. Would this never end? Sunnabe was walked up ahead of them, now standing by the giant Nord. The Imperial was unlocking the collar from around her neck. "You're free to go... Thalmor command."

She turned to look at him, saying something to the Imperial. "No. You're not allowed to speak to the prisoners. Gather your things from over there and leave! Now!" The giant just looked at her like he was sorry. He probably was. 

His heart clenched up. He couldn't believe this. He just couldn't. She was being set free. He fought to smile, glad that she would live. Perhaps she could find the family they'd been separated from and help them. She'd be able to exact her revenge against her parents killers. 

He wanted to have hope. He longed to have it... she'd given him that on the cart as they'd entered the town. But now, he couldn't see how she could help him. _How in all of oblivion would she be able to do a damned thing, if she was outside the walls?_

Another deep breath. She looked at him, keeping eye contact and nodded.

Returning her nod, he closed his eyes. _Whatever happened now, was meant to happen. This, he truly believed._

"Ralof of Riverwood" 

_Now at least he knew the man's name... Ralof._

As he was called up, he watched her walk away, gather her bow and quiver from a cart that held all the items taken from each prisoner. He stopped in front of the giant.

She climbed atop one of their horses, taking the pack horse by the reigns, she rode slowly toward the gates. She didn't look back.

His parchments were now setting atop the giant's list. "Lorundiil.. the First Emissary Ambassador has denied your documents. Given that you have aided a traitor to the Empire and killed Imperial soldiers, you are to die today, by beheading. Take your place.

His eyes had been closed through the entire thing. If he'd looked upon them, they would have seen the tears that he was fighting to keep at bay. Swallowing them down, he walked over and took his place next to Ralof, just a few feet from where Ulfric stood.

The General was evidently determined to lecture the bound and gagged man, even to his very moment of death.

A few of those in the crowd of onlookers that surrounded the area yelled out against the Stormcloaks. If any one of them was against what was happening here, they didn't dare utter it.

Tullius went on and on. Ulfric glared back at him and grunted into the rag that covered his mouth. Lorundiil looked at the man holding the massive axe, his head all covered in black leather. He was even bigger than the Nord with the list. _Gods!_

He looked away. He would see him up close soon enough. His eyes scanned the area, she was gone. Then he caught sight of Savin. He was still seated atop the Imperial mount, the soldier had climbed down and was standing next to the horse.

Very quietly, Ralof spoke next to him. "They will make him watch as everyone here dies... especially you."

Lorundiil gaped at him, unable to believe the absolute savagery that was being shown. 

"They will make Ulfric watch as well, as all his faithful go to the block. Each man and woman... then himself. It's a show of power. They want to hurt him. To make him suffer before he dies."

The giant took his place in front of the block. Evidently to make sure that no one tried to run. The roar of an animal rang out in the distance. The giant looked about in wonder... then concern. "What was that?"

Turning from Ulfric, Tullius placed his hands on his hips. "It's nothing. Carry on."

A priestess began her rant, holding up her arms. He noted that Talos was not remembered in her words. _Blessings of the eight... of course, they wouldn't pay homage to a God that was no longer allowed to be worshipped. Especially here._

Before she could really get started, a man that was unknown to him, evidently from one of the other carts, stepped forward. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"

Looking offended, she lowered her arms and stepped back. "As you wish."

Taking his place before the block, the Imperial woman guided him to his knees. Taking her booted foot, she lay it at his back and pushed him down, till the front of his chest and shoulders were resting on it.

_Gods! he was going to be sick! He couldn't do this!_

"Come on, I haven't got all morning! My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials! Can you say the same?"

The people in the crowd went wild, yelling out for justice to be done. No one was for them, except themselves. 

The headsman's axe swung down! The soldier's head rolled into the wooden crate that lay before it. A geyser of blood shot from the headless body, coating the stones before it, spraying onto the giant's feet. 

He gasped! Bringing up his hands to cover his mouth, he turned away, meeting Savin's gaze. Their eyes locked. 

"As fearless in death as he was in life."

Ulfric's brows gathered up. A most severe look, took over his face as he pulled his gaze up from the dead man that lay on the ground. Now that look was directed at Tullius.

"Next, the High Elf!"

Lorundiil's throat closed up, he felt like he was going to be sick. Frozen to the spot where he stood, a roar came from the same animal, only closer this time. Just for a second, it gave him the momentary reprieve he needed from the panic that was fighting to take him over.

He looked into the sky, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Anything, other than face what was coming.

The giant looked around, "There it is again. Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner!" 

Lorundiil's eyes went back to her, back to the massive man all dressed in black, holding onto that blood-stained blade. The giant looked at him, talking him through it. That same sorry look on his face. "To the block prisoner. Nice and easy."

His feet moved forward as if of their own volition. He could only imagine what the look on his face held. Absolute terror. Turning from the headsman, he looked past the giant, locking eyes once again with Savin. If he could see one last person, he wanted it to be a friend. 

The cold, damp earth met his knees. He wouldn't look at the stone before him, all wet with the other man's blood. Nor would he look into that crate. They didn't even have the decency to move the poor man's body. He was forced to kneel down next to him.

He swallowed as he felt the bottom of her boot on his back, pushing him down. Breathing in deeply, he turned his head and stared into the black boots before him. The smell of blood, sharp in his nostrils. 

Knowing it was only his need for justice to be done amongst all this wrongdoing, anger filled him, consuming his heart as it pushed away his fear. 

If the Gods heard his pleas... if she was out there, waiting for just the right moment to strike. If he lived through this, he would have that Imperial bitch's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics ~ Symphony of Destruction  
> By: Megadeth
> 
> The next one coming very soon, already started. Also, posting another for Mutt by the end of this week. After the next couple on this and Mutt, I promise to get back to my others.


	43. Legends Don't Burn Down Villages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those words. The man's resolve. It was what had quelled the hysteria in his heart and mind during those taxing hours. The fact that _he,_ was afraid as well. Someone that could have been his enemy, had helped him.
> 
> Someone that belonged to a group of Nords, that many of his people believed were hellbent on taking the life of every Elf. On driving them all from their land... had helped him. Not only that, but he'd asked for _his_ help in return. They would do this together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, some divergence. I will try to stick to most of the events that any new character would be dealing with once they go in with Ralof. However, I have absolutely no intention of replaying this through word for word. To me, trying to write the game line for line is incredibly tedious. Some of it will be told of in the past tense. This will also be a little shorter than the ones coming up.
> 
> This is how I plan to do it. Read on.

Time seemed to take on a life of it's own. So agonizingly, it slowed. Hot tears made their way down over the bridge of his nose, running into the side of his hair. His fingers dug into the stone slab that he seemed to be coming one with.

His mouth opened as the headsman raised up the axe, the muscles in his massive arms flexing as it went back over his head in preparation for the killing blow.

When the roar came again, it didn't even register. Tullius was yelling. People were shouting. He was frozen... frozen to that block, as the giant black thing filled the view beyond his killer. Tremors rocked the ground as it landed down onto the tower behind them, and for just a split second, their eyes met. 

It looked right at him. _At him!_ And then it opened it's mouth. A crack louder than thunder filled the air around them. It was aimed at them. At him. His head and body were pushed down into the stone to the point he felt he would bust apart from the force of it. His vision faded. Vomit spewed from his mouth, coating the bloodied stone and earth around him. 

People were running. They were screaming. Pushing himself up with his hands he shook his head, trying to get his bearings. The blonde... he was standing right there, and he was loose. 

It was raining... raining around them. Just like he'd read from books about the eruption of Red Mountain. Great rocks and fire hit the ground around them, the earth exploding up into plumes of dust with each strike. Soon they wouldn't be able to see at all.

The blonde was saying something. He was yelling. Looking at his lips, he fought to understand, to hear past the ringing in his ears. Turning, he saw the headsman laying in a heap, his axe on the ground behind him. His hood had fallen partially away. The bit that remained, clung to his head. A pool of blood staining the dirt beneath him. His eyes zeroed in on what held the leather to him. 

A bone arrow. 

Dirt sprayed up around him as another meteor hit! Turning to the blonde, he finally heard his words. "Come on! The Gods won't give us another chance!"

Jumping over the block, he followed the Nord toward a tower. Bodies lay strewn everywhere. The air around them became a hurricane as giant wings lifted what could only be a Dragon into the air. They ran through the doorway. A Stormcloak knelt on the ground, trying to help one of his injured comrades, that just by looking at her he was sure would die. 

His eyes immediately went from them to the stairs leading up the tower. Ralof's voice, making him turn once more toward the doorway from whence they'd just come. "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?!"

Lorundiil's eyes fixed on the Jarl, and for the first time since they'd been hauled up into that carriage, he actually heard the man's voice. "Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move. Now!"

Before he could think on it further, hands at his back, pushed him toward the stairs. Two seconds to see the terror in the Stormcloak's eyes as the wall was pushed in on him. A giant black head peered in at them as they jumped back down the stairs. 

They ducked down, trying to fend off the flames that spewed from it's mouth. Digging his fingers into the stone blocks around him, he silently prayed again, feeling the Nord's hands patting his back, putting out the flames that singed his hair and the back of his robes.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. "See the Inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go!"

All the way through that house, he'd thought that Ralof was right behind him. It wasn't until the Giant of a man that had checked off all their names, was standing in front of him once more, that he'd turned and found the blonde gone. "Still alive, prisoner?! Keep close to me if you want to stay that way!"

Bullshit, if he would! Even with all that was going on around them, the thought that he was still a fucking prisoner twisted his insides! _I'm not going to survive all this, and still be under the Imperial's thumb!_ The voice in his head led him, keeping his feet moving. _If I follow him, I'll end up in irons somewhere else. It'll happen all over again._

As soon as the Dragon went back into the sky, he sprinted past the soldier, up through a burned out house that led him into the middle of what evidently remained of the battle. Imperial soldiers aimed, firing their arrows fruitlessly! 

"Keep your eyes on it!"

"By Ysmir! Nothing kills it!"

"Die! For the love of the gods, die!"

They were all oblivious to him as he ran through them. He could see it rising. It was up into the sky again, like a black fucking cloud looming overhead.

Running into the open area ahead, Lorundiil looked back over his shoulder. The Giant Nord was still behind him. _What in Oblivion for?! Shouldn't he be fighting it with the rest of them?! Why's he following me?!_

Skidding to a stop, he paused, trying to fight down the panic that kept fighting to overtake him. _There's no way out! There's no way out!_

The Giant Nord came up from behind him. "It's you and me, prisoner! Stay close!"

Just then the blonde, Ralof, ran through an opening in the stone wall, coming towards them. The Nord bellowed out behind him. "Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

His feet moved toward the blonde, carrying him away from the Imperial soldier. "We're escaping Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that Dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

The blonde grabbed his shoulder, pushing him toward the door ahead of them. "You! Come on, into the Keep!"

Running toward the door, the blonde's words keeping him moving. All he could hear was screaming. The smell of blood and burnt flesh, hung heavy in the air. From behind them, a huge shadow blotted out the sun. 

Before Ralof could pull him through that door, he turned. Just for a split second, he saw it. Their eyes meeting for one last time before the door closed. It spoke. A deep, rumbling sound like something straight out of a nightmare. 

_"Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki."_

**

For just a brief moment, he leaned against the door, trying to regain his composure. Taking a few deep breaths before the blonde was grabbing his robes again, pulling him along. He couldn't get it out of his head. He just couldn't. His own voice, now surrounded by so much quiet, almost sounded alien to him.

He tried to whisper, but his voice rang out, loud enough that it seemed to echo off the stone walls around them. "Did you hear it?!" He pointed back at the door from which they'd just come. "That thing! That... Dragon... it just spoke! Didn't you hear it?!"

Ralof turned to him. There was fear in the fierce man's blue eyes. A fear that he was trying hard to hold at bay. "I don't know what I heard. But I know that we have to find a way through this and get out of here. We got away from it, Elf! That's all that matters! Now, are you with me?"

What he said next shocked Lorundiil through to his core. To his dying day, he would never forget it. Ralof swallowed, taking a step closer to him, he whispered. "I need your help. We can do this together." Shaking his head, his blonde hair tossing about. "Will you help me?"

Those words. This man's resolve. It was what had quelled the hysteria in his heart and mind during those taxing hours in that Keep. The fact that _he,_ was afraid as well. Someone that could have been his enemy, had helped him. Someone that belonged to a group of Nords, that many of his people believed were hellbent on taking the life of every Elf. On driving them all from their land... had helped him.

Not only that, but he'd asked for _his_ help in return. They would do this together.

Taking a step toward him, Lorundiil held out his hand. "I am Lorundiil."

For just a moment, Ralof stared at him... stared at the outstretched hand before him. Then he raised his own, meeting the Elf's. "I'm Ralof."

**

After they'd dispatched of the two Imperials in the store room, he'd taken a basket from the floor, loading it up with everything he could find that would serve in keeping them alive. Sacks of vegetables and fruits. Piles of salt and some herbs. A bottle of wine and the potions he'd found, nice and secure in the middle of it all. The eggs resting on top. 

The Nord had stood at the door, watching him gather it all, shaking his head with an almost comedic look on his face. Finally, he'd walked up to him, holding onto the basket with a feeling of sheer relief. "Are you done? Thought you could carry the whole room off, did you?"

He swallowed, blush rising up into his face. For a moment he felt a little bit like a child, but what it was, was fear. The need to feel secure in the face of the unknown. "You told me to gather supplies... so, I did."

The look on the blonde's face wasn't one of judgement, it was of understanding. "Aye... I did. But we'll have to fight to get out of here."

He nodded. "Then I'll put the basket down and fight."

Sky blue eyes, crinkled at the corners as Ralof smiled, showing bright white teeth. "Ready?"

No, he wasn't, but that's not what he said.

**

Leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, Ralof watched the Elf as he ran about the store room like a mad man, gathering everything he could find. Potions, food, drink. He'd seen the like before. Gods knew he, himself, had done this plenty of times just trying to keep himself and his comrades alive. 

Scavenging. The dead had no need for possessions and food. But the living did. Out in the wilds, if you weren't the one taking from the dead, it was the bandits that would. And here... now, he'd be damned if he'd leave a scrap for the damned Imperials to walk back in and claim. 

He knew the look the Elf's eyes held. It was pure terror... panic. What he wanted to do, was walk up to him and lay a hand to his shoulder. Calm him down. Reassure him, that together, they would walk away from this alive. He couldn't do that though. 

He couldn't see what the future held. He'd tried to make sure that Ulfric got out okay, but what may be waiting for them once they got out of here, he did not know. Ulfric and the few that had left with him had to get all the way to Windhelm.

That was a long way off. He had faith in his King. The man had survived worse, and now that they'd been given a second chance in the face of what had surely been their demise, he honestly felt he'd get there. Being given another chance tended to renew your strength. 

He knew what _he_ was doing if they lived. He was heading for Riverwood... home. And if the Elf was smart, he'd head there with him. Lay low for a few days and let things calm down. 

Nodding to the Elf as he opened the door. His arms grasping the basket tight, like it was his lifeline. It was security. Knowing they would have food and remedy would help keep him going. Now, he could deal better with what lay ahead. 

Just for a second, he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath through his nose. The smell of burnt flesh from the corridor below assaulted him. The sharp sound of static, as lightning split through the air. _Talos help them._

**

He'd already taken a man's life. A woman's. Killing more shouldn't have affected him so. But it did. He couldn't let that slow him down though. If anything, it was his fear that had kept him going. His need to stay alive. It was turning him into something... someone he didn't recognize.

He'd seen the look on Ralof's face. His face, and the others. The only one's left after they'd fought and killed the torturer and his assistant. 

Running down steps, he'd dropped the basket and literally plowed into the tiny man, knocking him into the bars of the cell in front of them. This man... he was done. He was done torturing and killing. He would die. 

His eyes zeroed in on him. It was as if he had blinders on, only seeing him. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the others fighting. He knew they would be alright. The other man, he used weapons... no magic. They could take care of him. But this man... he used magic. He hurt them with it. He cooked them alive with it. And that's how he would meet his end. Just like so many that had met their's at his hands.

Grabbing him around head, his long fingers locking down tight as heat poured from them. Flames flowed over the man's hood, down over his face. Lifting him up off the ground, his feet kicked at him, his arms flailing about as he tried to grasp at him, trying to stop him. Strangled screams pierced the air, echoing off the cold stone around them. Spiraling higher and higher, until they cut off all together.

It was no use. He could not fight him. His strength was gone. His arms hung limp. His dangling feet jerked as the last of his life left him. He looked into the mans eyes as they boiled and melted in their sockets. His flesh cooking like a pig's on a spit. Fat and oils popping, running and blending together before becoming blackened and charred. 

It was then, that he felt a hand at his shoulder. That he finally heard something beyond the sounds of death. "He's dead, Lorundiil. He's dead."

It was then, that he realized that he was not alone. He was surrounded by others. Ralof, another man, and a woman that had survived. He looked away from them. Away from their looks of question and unease.

He didn't want them to fear him. He didn't want to be a killer. A murderer. His eyes swept over the two dead men on the floor, then over to their fallen comrade. This man and his assistant, they had killed and tortured. _He... he was trying to save. To save. And if he had to kill, to save, then that's what he would do._

**

Ralof saw the look in the Elf's eyes, his mouth opened to say something that would probably come out as an apology for losing it. For coming undone in the heat of battle. No. He wouldn't let him do that. He shook his head. "Don't apologize for doing what needed to be done. They were trash."

There were wounded among them. As soon as Lorundiil healed them with the same magic he'd just used to kill, the looks on the others eased up. That's all it took. Knowing that he was on their side. He would be welcome. 

As soon as the soldiers were back up on their feet, Lorundiil walked over to the only cell that held someone. A dead Mage, from the looks of it. His long fingers grasped the bars as he readied one of the picks they'd pulled from what was probably the Mage's pack. "I wonder what he did to be in here? Why he had to die?"

Ralof watched him, his green eyes pulling away from the corpse to focus on the lock. His fear... it was swiftly turning to hate. "Doesn't matter to the Imperials, does it? Look what they did to you and yours."

Kneeling down, he began to pull the robes from the body. "I can sell these, can't I?"

"Aye, you can." 

He nodded at him, wanting to smile. What shown on his face, was anything but. It was grim, this way of life sometimes. You did what you had to do. The Elf was learning. He would live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another for this and for Mutt, on the way. Also, working on one for Leverage as well.


End file.
